Angel Fury (Immortal Legacy #2) - Ella Summers Page 0,24

heard of anyone blowing up the whole Beast of the West and the whole Beast of the East. What spell did you use?” I asked him.

“One of yours.”

I followed his gaze to Colonel Spellstorm. His handcuffs were gone.

“I needed something with enough charge to blow up the monsters,” Damiel said.

“The cuffs.”

That’s what he’d meant by one of my spells. I’d designed the handcuffs. I’d made them work.

“They have a mini Magitech generator,” Damiel said. “Small but powerful. I overloaded it and threw it at the monsters.”

“That’s pretty ingenious.”

“I know.”

It hurt to laugh, so I subdued the urge. Damiel wouldn’t have approved of laughter anyway, not with Colonel Spellstorm here.

Damiel had removed his handcuffs to save me. Colonel Spellstorm now had full use of his magic, which meant it would be difficult to secure him if he decided to escape. That should have worried me, even though I believed his story.

But I wasn’t worried. No, my mind was tying itself up in knots over the fact that Damiel Dragonsire had given up our only way of restraining the angel.

For me. He’d done it to save me. He had chosen me over securing a prisoner.

More importantly, he’d chosen to be himself, Damiel, over being Colonel Dragonsire. There was hope for him yet, and that made me happier than I dared express.

I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him to me. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. Not now. Not with others around. Not with another angel here. Not when the fate of the world hung in the balance.

I looked around at the ruined old buildings and fallen bridges around us. “So we made it to the City of Islands.”

“Yes,” said Colonel Spellstorm. “And the church where the demons’ agents plan to break the spell is just down the street.”

“Then let’s go.”

“You hit your head hard. Are you all right?” Damiel offered me his hand.

I took it and rose to my feet. “I’m fine.”

Colonel Spellstorm watched us closely. “Interesting.”

“Keep your commentary to yourself,” Damiel told him shortly.

But Colonel Spellstorm didn’t listen. “I know General Silverstar has instructed you on how vital it is that each and every Legion soldier does not betray any weakness, especially when that soldier is an angel,” he said to me, then turned to Damiel. “And you. Offering her your hand. What if she used your moment of kindness to stab you through the chest?”

“Be silent,” Damiel hissed.

As Colonel Spellstorm looked at us, his forehead crinkled up. “You two actually care about each other. Like each other. You even trust each other.” He shook his head slowly at Damiel. “You swore you didn’t trust a soul on this world or on any other.”

“I told you to be silent.” Damiel’s voice was powerful and hard, each word packed with magic.

Colonel Spellstorm chuckled darkly, as though he were filing away that information, the knowledge that Damiel cared about me, for future use. Angels were pragmatic like that. My father had taught me that too.

We followed the street. Ruin and decay reigned in the City of Islands. Water lines stained what remained of the buildings’ walls. At high tide, this whole place was flooded. Even now, at low tide, puddles of water lay on the streets.

In the distance, something let out an ominous creak. Probably one of the buildings. The city was one hearty sneeze shy of absolute destruction.

“This whole place, everything about it, feels like a ghost town, haunted by the spirits of the past,” I commented.

“That’s a very bizarre notion for an angel to have,” said Colonel Spellstorm.

“I’m an angel with a highly-developed imagination.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. This city does possess an ominous aura. But that is more likely the stench of demonic schemes than it is the postmortem wanderings of vengeful spirits.” Colonel Spellstorm glanced at Damiel. “It has the feel of Chicago, twenty years ago.”

Damiel nodded. “Indeed.”

“What happened in Chicago twenty years ago?” I asked.

“A multitude of simultaneous natural and supernatural disasters,” replied Colonel Spellstorm. “These disasters kept the Legion occupied for days. Almost every Legion soldier stationed in Chicago was out in the city, busy fighting one disaster or another. The situation was completely out of control, so the First Angel sent in Dragonsire and me to assist.”

“We soon learned the Dark Force was behind it,” Damiel added. “They’d created these disasters to draw as many Legion soldiers out of our Chicago office as they could. Very few remained behind to man the building.”

“That’s when the Dark Force stormed the office?” I guessed.

“Yes. Led by