I pivoted around to face him. “You are making it really difficult for me to put on my clothes.”

“That’s because you have it backwards.”

I looked down at the shirt I’d just put on. “It’s not inside out.”

“I didn’t say inside out. I said backwards.” His hand traced my side. He slid my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. Then he tossed me onto the bed.

10 Cogs in the Cosmic Machine

“The gods are more human than I expected. Especially Meda and Maya,” I said later as Nero and I walked down to the canteen.

“Don’t allow their superficial human behavior to fool you,” he replied. “They are far from human. That show they put on around us is just that: a show. They enjoy playing human. Never forget that they are far more dangerous. In fact, the sisters might just be the most dangerous of all the gods on the Council. They are fiercely loyal to each other and vote as one. For now, we amuse them. But if we get on their bad side, you will find them considerably less charming.”

“You’ve dealt with the gods before.”

“A few times. The first was in the aftermath of my parents’ supposed deaths. The loss of two angels drove the gods to call a hearing into the matter.”

The way he said ‘hearing’ was foreboding.

“It was more like wide-scale torture,” he told me. “For immortal beings who live forever, the gods are very impatient. They wanted answers now, and they didn’t care how many people had to bleed for them to get those answers.”

“Charming.”

“The gods might look like us, Leda, but they are not like us. Angels were once human, but the gods never were. They don’t see things in the same way.”

“They enjoy torturing others to make themselves feel more powerful. To feel above us all.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “We were fortunate that in addition to being merciless, they are also mercurial. They weren’t feeling particularly murderous today. That is why we survived.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t help. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“Not this time. You…amused them. You especially amused the sisters. And Aleris.” A tiny, confused crinkle formed between his eyes, as though he still couldn’t believed that we’d survived. “I think that’s the only reason we are alive. That and Faris’s desire to annoy his brother.”

“Faris did seem to get a kick out of voting against Zarion.”

“Zarion is infamously paranoid. He perceives everything as a slight to him, as an attack on his divine rights. He considers himself highly holy, holier than the other gods. Even holier than Valora. I knew he would speak out against us. I have a feeling the Gods’ Trials were designed by him—and that he believes we made a mockery of him.”

“And Valora? Why did she vote against us? She seemed sensible.”

“She is, but as the head of the gods’ council, she must uphold the status quo, the gods’ laws,” he said. “And the truth of the matter is, we cheated on their test. It doesn’t matter to them that the test was unfair. Angels are forged in the fire of their own suffering. The gods want us tormented, apart from others. We fight one another; we hold no bonds stronger than those to the Legion, to our duty. We are equal to none. We are above others, serving as their protectors. Never as their friends.”

I touched his arm. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Nero lifted my hand to his lips. “I know. United we are stronger. It is the isolated, inhuman angels that we lose—either to their own sadistic cruelty or to the demons’ army.”

“I think Ronan realizes that.”

Nero nodded. “Yes. Nyx has made him more human. He sees things differently than he used to. He is less rigid, less concerned about the rules, about the semantics of every encounter. He cares more about what’s really important. It took losing Nyx for him to see the bigger picture.”

I wondered what had happened, but I figured it was not Nero’s place to tell Ronan and Nyx’s story.

“The rest of the gods do not have that connection to Earth. Not like Ronan,” said Nero.

“If the gods don’t care about us, why are they here? Why did they come to Earth?”

“They are here watching over us because they need to hold our world against the demons. It is just one part of a much bigger game.”

“These other worlds have gods and demons?” I asked.

“The gods hold some worlds, the demons others.”

“Just how many worlds are there?”

“A lot,” he told me. “We’re talking about hundreds of worlds. Maybe thousands. I don’t even know. I’ve never been beyond this one.”

So this was just one gigantic, cosmic war between light and dark magic. And we were only a small part of it, a tiny dot in the gods’ empire. It was no wonder that they saw us as insignificant.

We entered Demeter, the canteen, to the clink of plates and silverware and the hum of conversations. It was early in the morning, at the dawn of breakfast, but the tables were already packed. There wasn’t a free seat in the whole room. Except at the head table, where the officers level six and above sat.

“Follow me,” Nero said.

As I followed him across the room toward the head table, conversations died all around us. Everyone froze and stared—no gaped. Nero was wearing his new uniform with an archangel pin—wings and crown halo—the symbol of a general. It wasn’t every day that an archangel joined us for breakfast. Nero had extended his wings wide. They rustled and shimmered like a cloak of midnight magic.

Harker rose to his feet, the only person in the whole room who’d remembered protocol. The officers at the head table followed suit. Reminded by their example, the rest of the soldiers in the room all stood in respect. Nero and I passed rows and rows of soldiers at attention. I caught Ivy’s eye, who winked so quickly that I almost missed it.

I was wearing my new pin too, a paw print, the symbol of Shifter’s Shadow. We stopped in front of the head table. I swallowed hard, trying to clear my discomfort. I might have been an officer now, a lieutenant, but the head table was reserved for only captains and above. I didn’t belong here.

Harker saluted Nero. “General Windstriker.”

“The First Angel has assigned me to evaluate your performance. I will be watching you.” Nero’s eyes flickered to me. It was a silent signal to Harker that he wasn’t only watching Harker for Nyx. He was watching him to protect me too.

Harker nodded, looking resigned. Some of the spark went out of his eyes. He had to know Nero would be hard on him in his evaluation.

As smooth as a summer breeze, Nero circled around the table and took the seat next to Harker. It was the one reserved for the First Angel when she visited New York. He waved me forward, toward the empty chair beside his, the seat usually occupied by Captain Soren Diaz. Soren must have been out on a mission right now. I moved toward the chair, the weight of several hundred pairs of eyes on me.

Sit down, Pandora, Nero spoke in my mind.

I did as he asked. Every other person in the room was still standing, including several Legion officers who held a higher rank than I did. Including an angel. They all continued to stand, waiting for Nero’s signal. Nero was obviously playing this game for a reason.

Nero raised his hands in the air, then motioned for everyone to sit. All the while, Basanti was watching me from her seat on the other side of Harker, looking positively amused.

I could hear the whispers in the room. The conversations were divided between shock over where I was sitting and excitement over Nero’s promotion. A trio of female soldiers at a nearby table stared at him in wonder. From the long, leisurely looks they were casting down the length of his body, I bet they were picturing him naked. I met their eyes with a wide smile and stroked my hand across Nero’s.