Angel Fever (Immortal Legacy #3) - Ella Summers Page 0,3

were the force behind a massacre. Thousands of people died, the entire population of a remote mountain town, save a single survivor. Among those killed was a supernatural, a witch. Except it turned out he wasn’t a witch at all—or at least not only a witch. He had Immortal blood.”

I froze, my breathing slowing. I grew very, very still. I felt like I’d just walked over my own grave.

“I made the discovery during the course of my investigation,” my father continued. “Specifically, while questioning the town’s lone survivor, a woman who managed to escape when the hunters came and killed everyone else. She spoke of the magic the ‘witch’ could wield, but it wasn’t enough to save him or anyone else. From the survivor’s account, this witch demonstrated magic beyond what any witch can do.”

“Because of his Immortal blood,” I said.

“Yes, but no Immortals ended up in my official report, I can assure you. I cataloged the massacre as a Dark Force attack. The bandits were soldiers sent by the demons to destroy the town because their magic smith was developing strong weapons against dark magic.”

“Is there any truth in that story?” Damiel asked.

“Yes, there was actually a magic smith developing weapons against dark magic. I found them in his workshop. But no one knew anything about those weapons, and the Dark Force didn’t kill him for them.”

My father was good at using truths to cover lies. He and Damiel had a lot more in common than either one would admit.

“I brought the magic smith’s weapon prototypes to my office. Legion scientists are uncovering their secrets as we speak.”

Smart. That was the carrot my father had tossed the Legion. So no one would think to question his version of what had happened.

General Silverstar had a reputation for honesty, even bluntness. He was not known as an angel who played hard and fast with the truth. He never lied to the Legion, and he always did his duty.

Except when toeing the Legion line put me in danger.

The Legion—and the gods, for that matter—believed that magic was as simple as the dichotomy of light and dark, of gods versus demons. They did not realize that the magic spectrum was not a line, but rather a cross.

But the gods didn’t need to know the truth. They hunted down and exterminated any magic they did not understand. Between the gods’ crusade against dark magic and the hunters who scoured the known universe for anyone with a drop of Immortal blood, we had more than enough trouble already. The last thing we needed now was for gods and demons to start killing anyone with passive magic too.

“The magic hunters have grown more active than ever before on Earth. They know some of the Immortals’ descendants are here,” my father warned me. “Cadence, you must be more careful than ever before. You must keep Nero safe.”

“When he was born, I gave him my mother’s amulet to mask his magic.”

“The magic hunters can track Immortals by more than just their magic signature. They hunt stories of unexplained magic and bizarre occurrences.”

My father closed his mouth, his gaze darting to the open kitchen doorway. Nero stood there, dressed in full-leather battle armor, an angel’s version of a formal suit.

His grandfather looked him up and down and declared, “He is a fine young man, Cadence.”

Then he walked over to Nero. The two of them strode into the living room together. My father gave Nero a single approving nod when he matched his grandfather’s soldierly march. Nero sure knew how to please him.

“Do you ever feel guilty?” I asked Damiel as I took the turkey out of the oven.

“Of course not.” He flipped the pancakes in the pan. “I’m too perfect to have anything to feel guilty about.”

“Could you try to not be an angel for a few moments?”

He flashed me a grin. “What would be the fun in that?”

I sighed. “But don’t you ever feel guilty about hiding things from Nero? For not telling him what he really is?”

“He is only ten years old.”

“I know.”

“He shouldn’t have to live with the burden of knowing hunters would kill him for what he is. Not at his young age.”

“I know,” I said again. “We don’t even know why these hunters are killing the Immortals’ descendants. We don’t know how many hunters there even are out there, or why they are hunting the Immortals’ descendants. How can we tell Nero that unknown people of unknown numbers are hunting our kind for unknown