“Damiel…”
He brushed his hand across my cheek. “Cadence.”
“You did it!” The blue lady cut between us, shaking my hand, then Damiel’s. “You really are the Heirs!”
The Magic Eaters surrounded us. This time, they didn’t attack us. They thanked us.
I hardly saw them. I stared at Damiel. I just couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of him. Though the magic glow had faded from our bodies, the feeling of him, of his magic and his soul linked to mine, still lingered on. It was the most intimate experience I’d ever had.
Sun rays hit the temple, lighting up the stones. The Magic Eaters began to sing an Immortal hymn.
I jolted out of my trance. The sun had risen. And in a few hours, the sun would rise on Storm Castle. My Dragon ceremony would be starting soon.
“We have to go,” I told Damiel.
He took my hand. I wished he’d never let go of it.
“The guardian spirit chose you to wield the daggers,” said the young priest Illias. “Take them. Follow the path the Immortals chose for you. Fulfill your destiny. Let the daggers guide you. Allow them to show you the way to bring back the Immortals.”
I waved the Magic Eaters farewell, then drew the Diamond Tear. It responded to my thoughts instantly, transporting us back to my room in Storm Castle, to the exact spots we’d stood before departing on this adventure.
I looked out the window. It was still dark outside, still night. However, soon the sky would grow lighter, and the sun would rise on a new day.
“Your Dragon ceremony will begin shortly,” Damiel said.
“Yes.”
He took a step back. “I should go.”
As he turned away, I set my hand on his arm.
He stopped and looked at me, waiting for me to say something.
“I know you weren’t planning on attending. And I know you’ve seen so many Legion ceremonies before. But I’d really like you to be there.” I was babbling so fast, I nearly tripped over my tongue. “Please,” I added, meeting his gaze.
He dipped his chin. “I will be there.”
He turned to go again.
And once more, I caught his arm. “Damiel, I wanted to thank you for what you did, for protecting me against the inquisition.”
“It was not real.” His voice was soft, even gentle.
“That doesn’t matter. We both thought it was real. You thought Nyx was going to have me executed, and you stepped in to protect me.” My throat was so tight with emotion that it was hard to speak. “You have a monstrous reputation, Damiel Dragonsire, Master Interrogator, Angel Fury—but you are a good person after all.”
He watched me, his expression muted.
“Say something, Damiel.”
“What should I say?” He let out a choked laugh. “I’m not convinced that there is any good in me. Perhaps my ‘sacrifice’ was nothing more than an admission that I am bad.”
“You don’t fool me. You are good, no matter how much you try to hide it.”
“Don’t speak too soon,” he warned me.
“Going to turn me in to the Legion?” I smiled at him. “Going to expose my magic and dive into my secrets? Going to gut them and share them with the Legion?”
“I know all your secrets already.”
“Is that so?” I was very aware of how close he was standing to me. I cleared my throat. “Well, you might find that I have a few surprises left in me.”
His hand flashed out, claiming mine. “I look forward to discovering them, Princess.”
There it was again, the nickname I’d always abhorred. But I loved the sound of it on his tongue.
The power of his aura crackled across our joined hands.
I felt a spark from the Diamond Tear strapped to my thigh. Damiel looked down at his own Sapphire Tear. He must have felt it too. Our daggers were trying to connect, to form a spark to bridge the distance between them.
Damiel released my hand. He stroked his fingers down my face. “I won’t share your secrets. And I won’t condemn you for your Immortal blood.”
“Which you have too,” I pointed out.
“See?” He leaned in. “I’m evil and self-serving.” His words fell softly against my lips. “I am only sparing you because I don’t want to expose myself.”
I took a deep breath, and my chest brushed against his. “You exposed yourself during Nyx’s inquisition. To save me.”
“If I expose you, if you’re taken away, I won’t see you again,” he continued, his voice thick. Silver and gold fire flashed in his eyes. “So I’m doubly self-serving.” He moved in closer.
The rasp of his mouth against my neck sent shivers down my spine.
I leaned into him. “Damiel…”
His hand settled low on my back. “It would be wise if neither of us shared our Immortal origins with anyone,” he whispered into my ear.
I didn’t trust my hands, so I left them by my sides. “Keep secrets from the Legion?” I smirked at him. “You?”
“The Legion isn’t ready for this. We’re still raw from the wounds inflicted on us by Hellfire and his circle of defectors. Maybe someday the Legion will be able to hear about our magic without succumbing to paranoia and hate.”
“Luckily, there are no tests that can detect passive magic, or they would have long since detected ours during our regular magic screenings.”
“That is fortunate,” he agreed. “And our magic is all light, gifted to us by the gods. It covers up the dark powers born of our Immortal origin.”
Right. The Immortals had possessed both light and dark magic, as well as active and passive magic. That meant Damiel and I had dark magic in us too, in addition to light. But the Legion hadn’t detected it, which meant our gods-gifted light magic was covering it up.
The Legion didn’t have a clue that there was active or passive magic either. They didn’t realize the magical spectrum was not a simple line but instead a cross.
Damiel had thought of everything that could possibly endanger us. I was not surprised. As he’d told me before, being perpetually paranoid was what had kept him alive all this time.
“So we’re safe.”
“For now.”
We were standing so close that I could hardly breathe—but I just couldn’t stop talking.
“Well, it sounds like it’s all been tied up so neatly,” I said.
“As long as you don’t volunteer any information.”
“Why would I?”
“You are the perfect soldier.” His fingers followed my jawline.
My heart was hammering so hard in my chest that he must have felt it. After all, there wasn’t all that much space between us.
“No, I really am not perfect,” I spluttered. “Nor are you the heartless bastard everyone believes you to be. I guess people really are more than what they appear to be.”
“Maybe.”
“Ever the skeptic,” I chuckled.
“Being the skeptic is still my job, Cadence.”
“But maybe now you will try to see the good in people once in a while, not just the bad?” I said hopefully. “That’s why you pretend to be so bad, so cruel. You’re afraid that if someone sees the good in you, you become vulnerable. That they will betray you.”