I hadn’t expected him to plead our utterly fake relationship, built on the weak foundation of my spoken agreement and never carried out—a relationship I had forgotten immediately, and that now soured in my bones, but it didn’t startle me into silence. I said coolly, “I’m willing to take down anyone—that’s what leading the Nephilim means to me. I hereby officially challenge you to a duel, Dante.”
Not a single Nephil spoke. Surprise registered in their expressions, quickly followed by satisfaction. A duel. Winner take all. Patch had been right—Nephilim were still fully entrenched in an archaic world, ruled by Darwinian principles. They were pleased by this turn of events, and it was crystal clear from the adoring eyes they cast in Dante’s direction that not one Nephil in the room doubted who the winner would be.
Dante tried to keep his face impassive, but I saw him smile softly at my folly and his own good fortune. He thought I’d blundered, all right. But his eyes immediately narrowed with wariness. Apparently he wasn’t going to lunge for the bait headlong.
“I can’t do that,” he announced. “It would be treason.” His eyes swept the room, as if to gauge whether his gallant words had won him any further approval. “I’ve given my allegiance to Nora, and I couldn’t think of doing any act that would contradict it.”
“As your commander, I’m ordering you to duel,” I retorted crisply. I was still leader of this army, damn it, and I wasn’t going to let him undermine me with smooth words and flattery. “If you truly are the best leader, I’ll step aside. I want what is best for my people.” I had rehearsed the words a hundred times, and while I was giving a well-practiced speech, I meant every word. I thought of Scott, of Marcie, of thousands of Nephilim I’d never met, but still cared about because I knew they were good men and women who didn’t deserve to be enslaved by fallen angels every year. They deserved a fair fight. And I was going to do my best to give them one.
I’d been wrong before—shamefully wrong. I’d avoided fighting for the Nephilim out of fear of the archangels. Even more reprehensible, I’d used war as an excuse to get more devilcraft. All this time I’d been more concerned with myself than the people I’d been charged with leading. That ended now. Hank had trusted me with this role, but I wasn’t doing it for him. I was doing it because it was the moral thing to do.
“I think Nora has made a strong point,” spoke Lisa Martin. “There is nothing more uninspiring than leadership propagating itself. Perhaps the Black Hand was right about her.” A shrug. “Perhaps he made a mistake. We will take the matter into our own hands and settle it once and for all. Then we can go to war against our enemies, unified behind a strong leader.”
I gave her a nod of appreciation. If I had her on my side, the others would step into line.
“I agree,” a Nephil across the room spoke up.
“As do I.”
More ratifying buzzed through the dining room.
“All in favor, make it known,” said Lisa.
One by one, hands shot up. Patch locked eyes with me, then raised his arm. I knew it killed him to do it, but we were out of alternatives. If Dante swept me out of power, I would die. My only chance was to fight, and try my hardest to win.
“We have a majority,” Lisa said. “The duel will take place at sunrise tomorrow, Monday. I will send word of the location, once it has been determined.”
“Two days,” Patch immediately interjected, speakincted, spg in Scott’s voice. “Nora has never shot a pistol before. She’ll need time to train.”
I also needed to give Pepper time to return from heaven with his enchanted dagger, hopefully making the duel a moot point.
Lisa shook her head. “Too long. Fallen angels could come against us any day now. We have no idea why they’ve waited, but our luck might not hold.”
“And I never said anything about pistols,” Dante spoke up, eyeing Patch and me shrewdly as though trying to guess what we were up to. He watched my face for any hint of emotion. “I’d prefer sabers.”
“It is Dante’s call,” Lisa stated. “The duel was not his idea. He reserves the right to choose the weapon. You’ve settled on sabers, then?”
“More ladylike,” Dante explained, squeezing every last ounce of approval from his Nephilim peers.
I stiffened, resisting the urge to send Patch a plea for help.
“Nora has never touched a sword in her life,” Patch argued, again speaking through Scott’s voice. “It won’t be a fair fight if she can’t train. Give her until Tuesday morning.”
No one was quick to support Patch’s request. The disinterest in the room was so thick, I could have reached out and punched it. My training was the least of their concerns. In fact, the sooner Dante was in power, their impassive attitude said, the better.
“Are you taking it upon yourself to train her, Scott?” Lisa asked Patch.
“Unlike some of you, I haven’t forgotten she’s still our leader,” Patch answered with a cold edge.
Lisa tilted her head as though to say, Very well. “Then it’s decided. Two mornings from now. Until then, I wish you both the best.”
I didn’t hang around. With the duel rolling forward, and my part in this dangerous plan upheld, I let myself out. I knew Patch would have to stay a little longer, to gauge the room’s reaction and possibly overhear vital information, but I found myself wishing he’d hurry.
This wasn’t a night I wanted to be alone.
Chapter 33
KNOWING PATCH WOULD BE OCCUPIED UNTIL THE last of the Nephilim left the Millars’ old house, I drove to Vee’s. I was wearing my jean jacket with the tracking device and knew Patch would be able to find me if he needed to. In the meantime, there was something I needed to get off my chest.
I couldn’t do this on my own anymore. I’d tried to keep Vee safe, but I needed my best friend.
I had to tell her everything.
Figuring the front door wasn’t the best way to reach Vee at this time of night, I picked my way carefully through her yard, hopped the chain-link fence, and tapped on her bedroom window.
A moment later the curtains were flung aside and her face appeared behind the glass. Even though the hour was creeping up on midnight, she hadn’t changed into pjs. She raised the window a few inches. “Boy, you picked a bad time to show up. I thought you were Scott. He’s on his way over any minute now.”
When I spoke, my voice sounded hoarse and shaky. “We need to talk.”
Vee didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll call Scott and cancel.” She slid the window all the way open to invite me in. “Tell me what’s on your mind, babe.”
To her credit, Vee didn’t scream, sob hysterically, or flee from the room the moment I finished telling her the fantastical secrets I’d kept to myself the past six months. She’d flinched once when I’d explained that Nephilim were the progeny of humans and fallen angels, but other than that, her expression had remained free of horror and disbelief. She listened attentively as I described two warring races of immortals, Hank Millar’s role in everything, and how he’d dumped his baggage in my lap. She even managed to smile slightly as I lifted the cloak on Patch and Scott’s true identities.
When I finished, she merely cocked her head, scrutinizing me. After a moment, she said, “Well, that explains a lot.”
It was my turn to blink. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say? You aren’t, I don’t know . . . stunned? Confused? Bewildered? Hysterical?”
Vee tapped her chin contemplatively. “I knew Patch was way too hard-core to be human.”
I was starting to wonder if she’d even heard me say that I wasn’t human. “What about me? You’re completely cool with the idea that not only am I Nephilim, but I’m supposed to be leading all the other Nephilim out there”—I thrust my finger at the window—“into war against fallen angels? Fallen angels, Vee. Like in the Bible. Heaven’s banished evildoers.”
“Actually, I think it’s pretty incredible.”
I scratched my eyebrow. “I can’t believe you’re being so calm about this. I expected some kind of reaction. I expected an outburst. Based on past experience, I anticipated flailing arms and a healthy dose of swearing, at the very least. I might as well be divulging this to a brick wall.”
“Babe, you’re making me sound like a diva.”
That brought a quirk to my lips. “You said it, not me.”
“I just think it’s really weird that you said the easiest way to spot Nephilim is by their height, and you, my friend, aren’t extraordinarily tall,” said Vee. “Now take me, for instance. I’m tall.”
“I’m average height because Hank—”
“Got it. You already explained that part about swearing an oath to become Nephilim while you were human, hence the average physique, but it still kind of sucks, right? I mean, what if the Changeover Vow had made you tall? What if it had made you as tall as me?”
I didn’t know where Vee was going with this, b with thut I felt like she was missing the point. This wasn’t about how tall I was. This was about opening her mind to an immortal world that wasn’t supposed to exist—and I’d just burst the secure little bubble she’d been living in.
“Does your body heal rapidly now that you’re Nephilim?” Vee continued. “Because if you didn’t get that perk, you really got shortchanged.”
I stiffened. “Vee, I didn’t tell you about our accelerated healing capabilities.”
“Huh. I guess you didn’t.”
“How could you possibly know, then?” I stared at Vee, revisiting every word of our conversation. I had definitely not told her. My brain seemed to struggle forward in slow motion. And then, just like that, understanding came rushing at me much too fast to digest. I covered my mouth with my hand. “You . . . ?”
Vee smirked. “I told you I was keeping secrets from you.”
“But— It can’t be— It’s not—”
“Possible? Yeah, that’s what I thought at first too. I thought I was going through some kind of whacked-up second menstruation thing. These past couple weeks I’ve been tired and crampy and totally pissed off at the world. Then, a week ago, I cut my finger while slicing an apple. It healed so fast I almost thought I’d imagined seeing blood. More weird stuff happened after that. In PE, I served the volleyball so hard it hit the back wall on the opposite side of the court. During weights, I had no problem lifting what the bulkiest guys in the class were lifting. I hid it, of course, because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself until I figured out what was happening to my body. Trust me, Nora. I am one hundred percent Nephilim. Scott caught on to it right away. He’s been teaching me the ropes and helping me cope with the idea that seventeen years ago, my mom did the deed with a fallen angel. It’s helped knowing Scott went through a similar physical change and realization about his own parents. Neither of us can believe it’s taken you this long to figure it out.” She punched my shoulder.