Page 12 of Leda's Log

“You should try to be a little less pessimistic,” I told her.

“I’m not pessimistic,” she replied. “Merely realistic.”

I glanced at Nero. “She stole your motto.”

He looked at Cupid. “You knew the rift was still open.”

“Yes.”

“But instead of telling us, so we could find a solution to the problem, you insisted on coming to the dining hall for a snack.”

“Yes, I did.” Cupid didn’t look sorry at all. “Chasing spirits across dimensions makes me hungry. I needed to refuel. I’m no good to you without my magic.”

“Apparently, you’re no good to uswithyour magic either,” Basanti pointed out. She glanced at Leila. “If we gathered enough soldiers together, we’d probably have enough firepower to take down that beast.”

“No. Stop.” Cupid’s words sliced through Leila’s nod. “That creature is not your enemy. It’s not here by choice. Someone is controlling it. It’s a victim in all of this.” Cupid’s voice wavered. “It’s really, really scared.” She cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, her voice was all steel. “We have to help it, not harm it.”

“Who’s controlling it?” I asked.

Cupid shook her head. “I do not know. I can just feel it.”

Our gazes locked. “There’s more to your magic than just shooting arrows, isn’t there?”

She dipped her chin in a slow, smooth nod. She was hiding something, but still, for some reason, I just knew I could trust her.

“Ok.” I looked at Nero. “Do you think you can keep the beast distracted while I try to break the spell it’s under?”

“That won’t be a problem.”

A gentle breeze, sudden and as soft as feathers, kissed my skin. There was a whisper, followed by a flash. Nero’s dark wings unfolded from his back, stretching out wide. I took a moment to appreciate the magnificent, magical tapestry of black, blue, and green.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s do this.”

The delightful eyebrow tilt Nero gave me was as delicious as any kiss. Then he launched into the air and flew toward the armadillo-kangaroo. The beast took the bait, batting at him with its stubby arms like a cat swatting a fly. The sight was unsettling, but I forced myself not to worry. Nero had faced thousands of beasts during his tenure at the Legion of Angels. He could handle this one too.

I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath. On the exhale, I punched out with my magic, a braided band of Siren’s Song and Ghost’s Whisper. That band cracked, and like a pair of scissors, the two blades of persuasion and telepathy cut through the vile spell cast over the creature, breaking the bonds that had enslaved its will and silenced its emotions.

“It’s done,” I said, opening my eyes.

But instead of calm, the beast was enraged. It roared and stomped and swiped at anyone who got too close.

“Well, that didn’t work,” I commented, frowning.

“It did,” said Cupid. “The creature is no longer being controlled.”

“I think things were better when itwasbeing controlled,” Basanti commented.

“It’s just scared.” Cupid drew her bow. “And angry.” Her arrow hit the beast just below the knee.

It only sort of helped. Fear won out over anger. The creature tried to dive under one of the tables, but its body was so large that it fellontothe table rather thanunderit. The wooden sheet snapped in half. The poor creature staggered to its feet, stomping, roaring, and crying.

“Well, that’s not good,” I said as Nero landed beside me.

The skylight shattered.

“What the hell is going on today!” Leila growled as a woman dropped into the dining hall on a black rope. “Who are you?” She looked appalled that a second stranger had managed to breach her castle’s defenses in one night. “And what do you want?”

“Just a sec. Be right with you.” The woman pivoted toward the frightened interdimensional creature. Like Cupid, she wore a black mask over her eyes. “Hey there, big fellow.”

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