“But they didn’t get what they bargained for,” I said.
“Oh, they did. The witches gained powerful magic. The sirens simply failed to tell them that their bodies couldn’t handle this unnatural flux of magic. Everyone the spell touched would lose their mind.”
“Those sirens sound very vengeful,” I commented.
“They were locked up for two decades, Leda. Of course they are vengeful,” he said. “But we don’t have only the sirens to thank for this. The witches played their part as well. In their greed, they forgot one very important thing: making a deal with a siren never ends well. Sirens are master negotiators and every deal they make comes with two prices: the price you make in payment and the unexpected price that comes later.
“The sirens knew the spell the witches had used to hide my magic because it was one of their own, a spell cast using an amulet. If Constantine Wildman remembered the amulet twenty years later, the sirens compelled him, making him forget all about it. When one of his witches put it on, the seal holding my magic shattered. My angel magic slowly returned to me, one power at a time. But a piece of my magic broke off and went into the witch who had worn the amulet to perform the spell. The first time she used my magic, the song of the siren’s spell infected her opponent’s magic. It jumped from person to person, spreading across the supernatural population.”
“They all have a piece of you in them. A piece of a demigod’s magic,” I realized. “That’s why they have these powers.”
“The sirens knew about my divine blood. And they knew the spell would spread across the supernatural populations of the city. And then beyond. Angel Fever will soon cover the Earth.”
“What do the sirens want?”
“To expose me. And, in doing so, to expose the witches to my father’s wrath.” Stash pounded his fist against the palm of his other hand. “But the gods won’t be killing any of us,” he promised. “The sirens’ spell had unintended consequences, even for the sirens themselves,” he said. “Because I am the reason they have their abilities—because a piece of my magic lies within them—I have power over anyone infected. I summoned them here for a purpose.”
“To raise an army.”
“Yes.”
“Against their will.”
“Yes,” he said. “My true self has finally revealed itself.” He indicated the army around him. “And so you see, Leda, I am a monster.”
“No, you aren’t,” I argued “You are a good man.”
His mouth dropped into a sad smile. “You always want to see the good in everyone.”
“You are good, Stash. That werewolf last night was you, wasn’t it? You saved us from the infected vampire.”
“Yes.”
“See? Even mad with magic and power, you still looked out for your friends.”
“Stop trying to paint me as a saint, Leda. I have done horrible things. Killed innocent people. I put everyone here under my spell to grow my army, to challenge the gods. I am no better than the sirens. My soul is black. I want revenge every bit as much as they do.”
“You weren’t yourself. You still aren’t.”
“No, for the first time in my life, I am completely myself. And this is what I am: a monster.”
“You’re just having trouble controlling the sudden influx of magic,” I said, setting my hand on his arm.
He stepped away from me. “That is an excuse psychopaths use. The gods’ laws of magic are very clear. We are responsible for our own acts. Lack of control is not an excuse.” He looked at Nero. “Tell her.”
“He speaks the truth,” Nero confirmed.
“So you see, the gods do not share your opinion of me. In their eyes, I caused this. And they will punish me. My father will want to punish me most of all, whoever he is.” Stash clenched his fists. “You should all get out of here. There is a storm of fury boiling inside of me, and I don’t think I can control what I’ll do.”
“Like take on the gods?” Basanti asked.
Stash smirked grimly. “You know a thing or two about that, don’t you?”
I looked at him in confusion.
“You are blind. You are all blind.” Stash’s gaze shifted to Nero. “Even you. For next to the power of a god, even an archangel is nothing. Next to the power of a demigod, you are nothing.”
Green and gold magic burst out of his hands. It slammed into Basanti, peeling back layers of illusion, dissolving them. She wasn’t Basanti at all. The strands of the shifting spell melted away, revealing Nyx, the First Angel of the Legion.
24 Shifter's Shadow
I looked at Nyx, squinting my eyes. “Where is Basanti?”
“At Storm Castle. She never left.”
The realization of what Nyx’s words meant hit me. “It was you all this time?”
Her red lips spread into a smile. “Yes.”
That explained why news of Storm Castle was so hush-hush right now. No people were allowed in or out without Nyx’s permission. It wasn’t just the usual secrecy that surrounded the rebuilding of a Legion stronghold. Nyx was protecting her deception, so no one on the outside knew Basanti was still there.
Nyx had been pretending to be her all this time, and I hadn’t even guessed it. I’d thought my magic of Shifter’s Shadow was strong, that I could see though magic illusions. I’d thought I knew what I was doing. I had gotten used to this so quickly, to depending on my magic, for things to come to me just like that. I’d taken it all for granted.
But I wasn’t powerful, and I didn’t know a thing—not compared to the First Angel, a demigod. Compared to Nyx’s magic and might, I was nothing.
I had to admit it was a pretty massive blow to my ego. I hadn’t realized how much my early success at the Legion had all gone to my head. Well, there was nothing like an experience like this one to bring my feet back down to the ground.
Harker and Nero were staring at Nyx. From the looks on their faces, this revelation was a blow to their egos too. The two angels hadn’t realized it was Nyx either.
“Why are you here?” I asked her.
Nyx chuckled. “Blunt as always, I see.” Now that the illusion of her shifting spell had faded, her charisma had returned. And her magic. Her long, black hair swirled in the air around her, flowing like it was underwater. “I’ve been keeping an eye on my newest angel. And on my newest archangel.”
Harker and Nero both did their best to not look offended—Harker for being watched, Nero for being watched while he watched Harker.
“And then this mess gets dumped onto our plates.” She turned her eyes, eyes as blue as the deep ocean, on Stash. “Fascinating. It seems I am not unique after all.”
She truly looked fascinated rather than annoyed. It was behavior so unlike an angel, but, then again, Nyx was in a class all her own.
“Are you going to kill Stash?” I asked her.
As First Angel of the Legion, it was her duty to uphold the gods’ laws and keep the Earth safe. Stash’s army was a challenge to both.
“Of course not,” she said. “A demigod is too rare to waste.”
That was Nyx: practical to the core.
“But we really must put an end to this revolution.” She waved her hand to indicate the supernatural army. “They are drawing far too much attention to your existence.”
“The gods have been walking all over us for centuries,” Stash countered. “The Earth is not their playground. It is our home. Ours.”
There was power in that word. It rippled through the air, shaking me from the inside.