and I returned with Jiro to the Hive world. The rebels’ base was soon bustling with activity. Everyone was getting ready for the imminent march on the fortress, under Damiel’s direction. Jiro was busy in the garage, setting up the Magitech devices we’d need to penetrate the Hive’s magical defenses. I joined him. It gave me a chance to learn more about Damiel from the person who knew him best.
“So you and Damiel joined the Legion at the same time,” I said.
Jiro looked up from the device he was tinkering with to flash me a grin. “Just come out and ask me what you really want to know, sweetheart. Don’t beat around the bush.”
I frowned. “You don’t talk to angels like other people do.”
“No, I don’t. I lived on an Earth before gods and angels. And demons, for that matter. Things were different back then. Humans were proud. We didn’t kiss anyone’s ass. I suppose those four years of menial labor at the Legion should have humbled me, but I’m a stubborn son of a bitch.”
“Four years of menial labor at the Legion?” I repeated. “You worked for the Legion before they allowed you to join, just like Damiel?”
“He and I arrived on their doorstep on the very same day. Others did, too, eager to join but still too young. None of them lasted more than a few weeks. Damiel and I stuck it out for four years. During that time, we were lower than the lowest initiates, lower than the bottom of the Legion. There wasn’t even a name for the non-positions we held.
“But we got through it, determined to become initiates. We trained together whenever we had a spare moment, during those very short breaks between loads of hard labor and lots of cleaning. Many initiates made a game out of tormenting us. For four years, we watched our tormenters rise in the Legion’s ranks while we stood still, stuck in time.”
“Until you turned twenty-two,” I said.
“That was a glorious day.”
“And you came of age on the very same day?”
“No, my twenty-second birthday was a week before his, but we both fell in the same initiation group. We took our first sip of Nectar together.”
“And you’ve been inseparable ever since?”
He laughed. “Something like that. Those years of suffering hardened our determination—and our willpower.”
“Above all else, a Legion soldier’s mind must be disciplined. Unflappable. Because, ultimately, a disciplined mind is what will make all the difference between life and death when you sip the gods’ Nectar,” I quoted him.
Jiro gave me a funny look. “I’ve heard a lot about your picture-perfect memory.”
“It didn’t start out that way,” I said. “But when you have an archangel for a father, a simple child’s game of Memory comes with very real consequences for failure.”
He grimaced. “Do I want to know what those consequences were?”
“Probably not.”
“But the experience made you stronger.”
“It did,” I agreed.
“You and Damiel have a lot in common. You’ve both been through more than most people can even comprehend.”
“Damiel is…”
“Crazy,” Jiro supplied.
“Complicated,” I amended. “He’s faced so much hardship in his life. And he’s lost so much. Those experiences have made him stubborn. They’ve made him believe he doesn’t need anyone. But he does. He really does.”
“He told you what happened to his family?”
“Yes.”
“And what happened with Leon?”
“Yes.”
Jiro let out a low whistle. “And yet you’ve known him hardly a week.”
“We’ve been through a lot together in that week.”
“So I’ve heard. Your first mission with Damiel left a definite impression on him. He was intrigued, completely fascinated by you. But more than that, he connected to you. He couldn’t stop talking about you. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“Surely, you’re exaggerating.”
“Do you know what he told me?” Jiro continued. “He told me, ‘that woman will be my wife’. He was sure of it. One hundred percent determined. And Damiel never stops until he gets what he’s set his mind to.”
I felt a spark of emotion, of bizarre anticipation, in my gut. Even though those events had already come to pass, even though we were already married. We’d married on the Legion’s orders. It had nothing to do with Damiel’s feelings—or mine, for that matter. Honestly, I didn’t even know what my feelings were telling me.
“Are you sure you’re supposed to be telling me any of this?” I asked Jiro.
“Probably not,” he laughed. “But I happen to be on very good terms with the Master Interrogator, so I think I can avoid being declared a traitor.”
I laughed too. It was