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Grinning, I lowered my scythe and approached her. “All it took was thinking about Kit dying, huh?”
She blew out a shaky breath and tucked a strand of curly brown hair behind her ear. “That’s a powerful motivator.”
I knew that feeling profoundly. It seemed most days were like that with Veronica, moving from one crisis to the next with hardly any time to catch my breath. I loved that woman with every fiber of my body and soul, but if she didn’t rein in her impulsive behavior, then she and I would need to have a serious come to Jesus meeting.
However, I would have to worry about our future together after we defeated Colin. Bringing it up before then would be a moot point if none of us survived.
Uncertainty flickered through my thoughts. My death was a very real possibility in this war. If Veronica worried or became distracted because of something happening to me, she might get herself captured or even killed.
She might not be the last phoenix, but there was no denying that she was special. This world needed her as much as I did.
Taking a deep breath, I forced my runaway thoughts back on track and nodded at Angela. “You’ve proven you can harness its magic, but now you need to learn to do it without relying on fear.”
Brandon handed us new bottles of water, which she wasted no time chugging. Fighting was draining physically, and using magic added an extra layer of exhaustion.
After finishing her water, Angela tossed the empty bottle in a nearby trash can, then gripped the staff. She rubbed her thumbs along the steel. “I can feel it trying to seduce me, teasing me. If this is only a fraction of what the rest of you feel, I can see why it’d be hard to resist.”
As she examined the staff, what looked like a sliver of inky shadows twisted through her brown irises. When she blinked, it was gone, most likely an optical illusion born from my paranoia. But…
What if it wasn’t?
Abaddon’s Last Hope had never existed before now. We only knew the legend passed down through generations of mages and angels. Necromancers had chosen the name Abaddon for a reason: the word was a place of destruction and an angel of the abyss, a chasm with no light and no end.
A shudder of apprehension rolled across my shoulders.
Were any of us truly able to resist its dark call?
20
TUESDAY MIDMORNING
The doors to the DEA’s training facility were closed, and a prominent Do Not Enter sign warned visitors away. Not heeding the warning last time, I’d interrupted a dangerous training session and found myself enshrouded in the Reapers’ Shadow about to lose my life and soul.
Thankfully, I’d learned my lesson. Enough not to hurl the doors open this time, anyway.
I cracked the door open, ignoring Lena’s grumpy muttering behind me. She’d argued that if anyone should do the peeking, it should be her or Ivan, with her preference given to Ivan.
Not that I disagreed, even though I did, but I kind of knew what I was doing this time.
As I peeked through the door, my eyebrows shot toward my hairline. Shadows and black tendrils flew back and forth between Angela and a reaper I knew—Brandon. While Angela had a look of fierce determination on her flushed face, sweat soaked the reaper’s clothes as he attempted to hold his ground. A stance he was slowly losing.
Everyone in the facility had gathered around to watch, so I tilted my head for Lena and Ivan to follow. We made our way around the crowd and joined Thane on the opposite side.
Although my mate remained focused on the fight, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. A wave of warmth and security swept through my limbs.
Angela deflected a blow from Brandon before the staff’s dark magic shot out toward him like a wide rope. It wrapped around his middle and squeezed. As he struggled for breath, she caught sight of us watching. Her sweaty face lit up, and she waved.
That moment of distraction was all the reaper needed. His scythe sliced through the magic, breaking the hold, and he swept Angela’s legs out from beneath her. She landed on the training mat with a loud thump and a whoosh of breath. Before she could recover, Brandon had his curved blade at her neck.
“Checkmate. Finally,” he said with a grin, his broad chest heaving.
Laughing, Angela accepted his offered hand and let him pull her to her feet. She probably weighed next to nothing for the big reaper.
The other trainees clapped Brandon on the back and praised Angela for doing so well. She blushed and brushed aside the compliments as she gulped down a bottle of water.
“Sorry to distract you,” I said after the reapers had returned to their training.
She rubbed a towel over her face and neck. “It’s all good. I need to learn to keep my focus, no matter what.”
