Page 91 of Gods' Battleground

“Distracted checking out the new guy?” Ivy teased me.

“Assessing, Ivy,” I corrected her. “Not checking out.”

Ivy flicked her red hair over her shoulder. “Hey, totally not judging.” Her gaze slid over the mystery soldier—very, very slowly. “He’s cute.”

“I guess this is the part where I’m supposed to act like the jealous boyfriend,” Drake said to Alec, totally relaxed and unbothered.

Alec nodded. “Women like that.”

Ivy’s attention snapped to him. “And how would you know what women like, Alec? You never make it past the third date.”

“But always past third base,” Alec told Drake.

The boys chuckled and high-fived each other.

Ivy rolled her eyes at them. “Men.”

“They’re not all bad.” I met Nero’s gaze across the room—and, smiling, bit my lower lip.

“Geez, Leda, turn it down a notch,” Ivy said, fanning herself. “I’m getting a sunburn just sitting next to your libido.”

I shrugged. “Oops.” Then I stuck my fork through a steamed broccoli floret and ate it.

Drake watched me, surprise painted all over his face. “Since when do you eat vegetables, Leda?”

“A wise angel recently scolded me for indulging in unhealthy eating habits,” I said cryptically.

“Let me guess.” Ivy smiled at me over her fork. “Nero Windstriker.”

“Sierra Pandora Windstriker, actually,” I told her.

Alec snorted. “Your three-year-old daughter scolded you for being unhealthy?”

I ate another broccoli floret, then said, “For eating cookies before dinner, yes. Though I suspect her lecture had a secondary objective: hoarding those cookies for herself.”

“Well, she is your daughter,” Ivy pointed out. “And General Windstriker’s daughter. She has a lot of each of you in her.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, frowning at the broccoli on my plate. I grabbed the sugar bowl, sprinkled the sweet white crystals all over my vegetables, then sampled my culinary masterpiece. “Much better.” I looked at Alec. “So you were telling me something earlier?”

“Yes.” He sounded so uncharacteristically serious. “General Windstriker has offered me a place in the Vanguard.”

“Wow, Alec. That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

He’d once told me that it had always been his dream to join the Vanguard. The Vanguard was the Legion’s special battle unit, the elite of the elite. They didn’t take just any Legion soldier. You needed a direct invitation from the Vanguard’s angel commander. That had once been Damiel, back before he’d retired from the Legion. But that honor now belonged to Nero. He’d taken his father’s place as Head of the Vanguard.

“So you won’t miss me, boss?” Alec teased.

“Of course I will,” I told him.

And I meant it. Alec could be silly, but he was a very competent head of security.

“But Nero’s your boss now,” I continued. “And a piece of advice…”

Alec leaned in, drinking in my words.

“Don’t flirt with him like you do with me,” I finished.

Everyone laughed.

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