you rest, the sooner you’ll be back on your feet.”
“I could be on my feet right now, Princess.”
I sighed. “I am not daring you to embark on acts of sheer stupidity, Damiel. I’m inviting you to see reason.”
“I am always very reasonable. And reason tells me that the longer I wait, the colder Starfire’s trail will get. I’m not letting him slip through our fingers again. We have to capture him now, before he disappears for another twenty years.”
“If you try to chase after Starfire, I will tie you to this bed.”
“Promise?” He grinned at me, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He must have been in an enormous amount of pain.
“Oh, yes,” I told him. “I’ll even stick tape over your mouth.”
“That’s not what I had in mind.”
“Well, you are out of your mind, Damiel. You cannot go on an angel hunt, not in your condition. Starfire plays dirty, and chances are if you chase him down, you’d just be walking into another trap.”
“Spellstorm and Starfire. They went traitor about the same time, twenty years ago.” A contemplative look settled on his face. “And I bet the same person is behind their defections. We need to figure out who this mystery person is.”
“How?”
“Spellstorm is dead, and Starfire is at large,” he said. “But we do have another person in our possession who went rogue at exactly the same time.”
“Eva Doren,” I realized.
“Yes, Cadence. I need you to pay the prison a visit and interrogate her.”
“I am not an Interrogator.”
“You are now.” He yanked off his Interrogator pin and attached it to my jacket. “I’m making you interim Master Interrogator.”
6
Colonel Holyfire
Damiel took out his phone and began typing rapidly. “I’m telling the prison to get Eva Doren ready for your interrogation.” He glanced up from his screen. “How you enter the interrogation chamber is of critical importance. It sets the stage for the entire interrogation. When you look at Eva—”
“I’ve read the manual, Damiel.”
“Of course you have. You’ve read all the Legion manuals.” He looked amused.
“Stop trying so hard.”
“To do what?”
“To pretend there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“There are many things wrong with me, Princess,” he said. “In particular, my habit of always being right seems to grate on the other angels.”
“Now you’re just being cute.”
“Oh? Why don’t you come a bit closer to make sure I’m still cute.” He patted the hospital bed.
“I’m not climbing into bed with you, Damiel.”
“Why not?”
“Because you were just stabbed with an immortal weapon and are still bleeding through your bandages.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I meant what I said. You don’t need to pretend that nothing is wrong, that you’re in perfect health. Not for me.”
“I’m not doing it for you, Princess. I’m doing it to ward off the other angels. If they sense weakness, they will strike.”
“There aren’t any other angels here,” I told him.
“But their spies are everywhere. Or at least people waiting to be turned into spies.”
“Surely, you trust your own people.”
“I trust they will do what I say as long as they fear me. But if I appear weak, their fear might diminish enough that they do something foolish.”
“Like report your condition to another angel in the hopes of a reward?”
He nodded. “Precisely.”
“Aren’t you being a tad paranoid?”
“Not just a tad. A whole heaping lot. It comes with the job.”
“Did you ever consider that if you didn’t go around scaring people shitless, you might not need to always watch your back?”
“If I didn’t go around scaring people shitless, I wouldn’t make a very good Master Interrogator.”
As always, he had a point.
“Maybe it’s time for you to hang up your Master Interrogator cloak,” I suggested.
“I don’t wear a cloak. It would get in the way of my wings.”
“You are deflecting again.”
“Not deflecting. Being strong.”
“Maybe you really should quit. Instead of being the big, bad Master Interrogator, you could be just another big, bad angel.”
When he didn’t respond immediately, I chose to take that as a sign he was at least considering my suggestion.
Finally, he admitted, without humor or pretense, “I’m not sure I know anymore how to not be the Master Interrogator.”
“But I know who you really are, Damiel. And I can help you.” I set my hand over his. “Think about what I’ve said.”
“All right.”
Footsteps tapped against the marble floor. I turned to see Nero standing at the entrance to the medical ward. His eyes were locked on to Damiel lying on the cot.
I waved him over. “Your father was injured, but he’s going to be ok.” I took both their hands and squeezed