Chapter 19

Earlier, I'd considered paying Nero a visit under the pretense of asking him to identify a magical relic, like the vampire's gold lion head ring, but his message had saved me from trying to pawn off that flimsy excuse.

I didn't fly up to the roof of Nero's house and come in through the bedroom like we had on our wedding night. Maybe I should have, but I wasn't feeling that bold right now. He'd said he wanted to talk, not jump into bed together and pretend the whole fight had never happened.

Our fight had left me shaken, no denying that. I used to say I didn't give a shit about what people thought of me, but the truth was I did care what Nero thought. I cared so much that it hurt.

I stepped up to the front door and raised a shaking hand to the doorbell. The seconds stretched on to eternity. Eventually, there was a low buzz and the door opened. As I entered the house, Angel by my side, I tried not to feel hurt that Nero hadn't come down to show me in himself.

I climbed the stairs, growing more nervous with every step. At the top, I passed through a wide open archway to enter the living room. And that's when I saw him. It had been days since we'd been in the same room together.

For years, I'd kept a picture of Nero in my head, which I took with me always, wherever I went.

The shimmer of his glossy black feathers, highlighted with blue and green; his were the most beautiful wings I had ever seen.

The manner in which he moved, powerful and possessive, owning every space—and everyone in it.

The way his black leather armor fitted perfectly to his body, highlighting every dip, showcasing every curve of muscle.

The flash of magic in his bright green eyes, peeking out at me from behind his angelic facade.

The wicked twist of his lips when he teased me.

How magic slid off of him like a cloak, and snapped and sizzled like a lightning storm.

The call of his blood, sweeter and more seductive than the gods' Nectar.

The way his caramel hair fell just over his eyes, a dash of disarray in his otherwise orderly appearance.

How he held me in his arms, and I just knew everything would be all right.

But those perfect memories paled in comparison to the real thing.

Nero was seated on his sofa, one arm positioned comfortably on the backrest, the other holding a book. He looked so confident, so secure, like a dragon in his lair. When he looked up from the page he was reading, his eyes meeting mine, I felt like I was falling in love with him all over again.

"What can I do for you?" He sounded so formal, so detached.

"You asked me to come see you," I reminded him.

"I did not."

"I got a message from you on my phone." I'd been going for a strong, steady voice, but my words came out so stiff.

His eyes narrowed, then he retrieved his phone from the coffee table. "There is a message from me to you." He looked up from his screen. "Harker was here earlier. He must have snatched my phone and messaged you when I wasn't looking."

Nero didn't look happy about that.

"I'm sure Harker thought he was helping," I said quietly.

"I'm sure he thought he was." The look in Nero's eyes could have frozen the sun cold.

For several minutes, neither of us said a thing. He just sat there—and I just stood there, in the doorway—in total silence. It was Angel who finally broke the silence by hissing at Nero.

"Don't be rude," I told her.

Her tail high in the air, she turned her back to Nero.

"Well, since I'm here," I said, taking an awkward step toward Nero. "There is something you can help me with."

He arched a single brow at me. "Oh?"

I blushed from head to toe, feeling unbearably self-conscious. I bottled my embarrassment. It wasn't like I was asking him to cuddle me or something like that.

Burying my rattling nerves, I pulled out the vampire's ring. It looked like I was going to use my pitiful excuse to talk to him after all.

"I found this ring on one of the dead witches in Abyss," I told him. "Colonel Fireswift claims that it's a magical relic which belongs to him."

"I have read your reports."

I blushed again—or maybe I simply hadn't stopped blushing; it was hard to tell at this point. "Oh. Right."

Of course he'd read my reports. When it came to performing his duties, Nero was unwaveringly competent.

"I was hoping you could identify the ring," I said. "Maybe tell me if it truly belongs to Colonel Fireswift."

He was watching me closely, making me feel damn jittery. I had the sinking suspicion that he saw right through my flimsy excuse to start up a conversation with him.

"Never mind," I said quickly, turning toward the exit. "I'll just go ask Harker."

"Leda."

The sound of my name on his lips stopped me dead in my tracks. I turned back around to look at him.

"Don't go running off to Harker," he said. "Not again."

I knew he was referring to the time I'd danced with Harker way back when I'd first joined the Legion. After Nero had turned me down for a dance.

But what did his words mean? Was this his way of inviting me to talk to him?

"Well?" he said crisply. "Are you coming over here or not?"

I pictured myself climbing onto his lap and kissing him.

"Show me the vampire ring," he said.

"Of course," I replied, feeling very foolish for even entertaining that fantasy.

I crossed the room and sat down. The sofa wasn't large, but it felt like entire galaxies lay between us.

I was as far away from him as I could be on that sofa.

"Would you care for something to drink?" he asked me, his voice still so formal.

"Sure."

He pulled out a second glass from the drawer under the coffee table, then poured wine into it. I took a sip. It tasted like the same wine we'd once shared in his apartment, back before we'd dated. Was this somehow significant? Had he been sitting here, thinking about me just as I'd been thinking about him?

I didn't dare ask. I didn't even want to think about it. I guess I was too scared to hear that he'd randomly picked the wine, without thinking of me at all. He seemed so cool, so distant, so perfectly unruffled. Whereas I was totally unhinged in his presence.

"This is it." I opened my palm and showed him the lion-head ring.

When he took it from me, there was a buzz of energy as our hands made contact. My heart jumped. I was sure he'd heard that, but if he had, he didn't show it. He just looked at the ring closely, turning it over in his hand. I could hear his heart, and it was as steady as a war drum, unwavering, thumping out the soldiers' march.

"I am familiar with this ring," he finally declared. "Yes, once it did belong to Colonel Fireswift, but no longer. Just over two years ago, he lost it to me in a game of Legion."

I wasn't surprised that Colonel Fireswift had lied to me. However, I was shocked that he had ever played the card game he mocked so much.

"So now it is mine." Nero's hand closed around the ring. "Though, a couple of years ago, it was stolen from me by a blue fairy."

An image popped into my head, that of the blue fairy I'd once watched Nero make out with, before we'd been together.

"That's the one," Nero told me.

I chided myself for allowing my mental defenses to fall, then fortified them so he couldn't see anything else in my mind. Like how horribly miserable I'd been without him.

"It turned out the blue fairy was a thief," he said. "I didn't realize the ring was gone until later that night."

"You were distracted."

"I was," he agreed. "But not by the blue fairy." His gaze burned into me.

I wanted nothing more than to close the distance between us, to jump across the sofa and throw myself at him.

His gaze panned down my body. "You dressed up."

"I was out."

It wasn't a lie in words, but only in spirit. I'd been out with Gypsy, but the truth was, I'd put on this dress just in case I saw him while out on the town. This was Nero's favorite dress. He'd often told me that it accentuated my features.

Maybe I'd worn it in the hopes of enticing him back. Or maybe I'd worn it to show him what he'd been missing. I really didn't know. All I knew was I'd put it on for him.

His eyes dipped to my chest. Yes, I'd worn a pushup bra too for extra cleavage. I was pulling out all the punches tonight.

But I was too afraid to tell him that all of this was only for him—only to have him push me away again, to put up a wall between us. To break my heart.

I crossed one leg over the other, and the skirt of my dress rode up my thigh. Suddenly, his hand was on my leg. I could see the temptation in his eyes, the battle playing out between his desire and his will.

I didn't want him to fall victim to desire. I wanted him all, heart and body and soul. I wanted him to be with me by his own free will, not because for one short moment, his lust overrode everything else. So I slid away from him. His hand dropped from my leg.

We sat there, staring at each other in silence, the air thick with so many unspoken words. The best laid plans of the Angel of Chaos inevitably went to shit. At least that was how it felt right now. It felt like anything I did only made matters worse.

My phone buzzed, and this time the message didn't make my heart jump with joy. It made it sink deep down into my stomach.

"There's been another incident," I told Nero, standing. "Involving sirens in Purgatory this time. I have to go get my team."

He was already on his feet. His gaze flickered to the message on my screen, then back to me. Indecision shimmered in his eyes for a moment, then was silenced.

"It's faster if we go there directly," he said. "Come on."