“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.

“That’s the influx of magic speaking,” Nyx told him calmly, apparently unaffected by his power. Or maybe she was just really good at hiding it. “All of us with divine blood tend to get territorial. The gods are not to blame for what happened to you and to all these people. It was the sirens’ revenge. And the witches’ greed.”

“The gods created the situation,” he replied, his jaw clenched hard. “And one god is very much involved, the one who impregnated my mother, the one who killed her. That god is the reason I am here.”

She gave her hand a dismissive wave. “It makes no sense to blame the reason you are alive. I will help you learn to control your power, Stash. And, when you’ve had a chance to see things more clearly, to find your father. But you really must put an end to this revolution. We must cure these people.”

Stash’s eyes panned across his army. “I can’t. I can’t cure them,” he admitted. “I don’t know how. I only just now learned to control them. If I could have controlled them all along, I would have stopped them from killing people.” He shot me an apologetic look. “From killing those Legion soldiers.”

“I know you would have stopped them,” I told him. “You are a good person, like I said.”

Stash gave me a half-smile. “The jury is still out on that, sweetness.”

“I will help you cure them. We’ll do it together.” Nyx extended her hand to him.

Stash took it.

“Close your eyes,” she said.

Stash looked at her, his face hard.

“You’re going to have to trust someone. And believe it or not, I know what you’re going through.” Magic sparked in her eyes.

“How can you possibly know what I’m going through?” he demanded. “You were born an angel. You always knew who you were, what you were.”

“That’s not entirely true. For a time, I was lost.”

“Lost?”

“It’s a long story. A story for another time.” Her tone was hard, leaving no room for argument. “Now close your eyes.”

He obeyed.

“See the magic that connects you to them. You are at the center of a web of magic that starts with you, reaching out,” she said, her voice dreamy, almost soothing. “When the spell locking your magic broke, something happened. Your magic—fragile, volatile from being bottled up for so long—exploded out of you. Pieces of it grafted onto them, changing them.” She looked at Constantine Wildman, who was kneeling at her feet. “There is no spell that can give you the powers of other supernaturals,” she told the witch. “Nothing but Nectar or Venom can do that. You all have these powers because a piece of Stash’s magic is in you.”

The witch blinked. His mind was clearly somewhere else.

Nyx walked behind Stash, setting her hands on his shoulders. “That piece of magic in them will eventually kill them because their bodies are rejecting it. They can’t handle it. Though, admittedly, most of them will go mad long before that point. So, you see, your army will be dead before it can challenge anyone.”

Stash swallowed hard, his face etched with guilt. “How do we help them?”

“You need to draw those pieces of your magic out of them, like shrapnel from a wound. Draw them out, absorbing them back into yourself. Then their minds and magic will be back to normal. And your magic will be whole once more. Feel those parts of you in them, draw them into you.” She nodded. “Good. Nice and slow.”

I didn’t see anything. Fireworks weren’t exploding overhead. I didn’t even see any tiny magic sparkles pulsing. But I felt…something. Like thousands of invisible fireflies were flying around us—not seen but felt.

The infected supernaturals began dropping to the ground—dozens at a time, peppered throughout the crowd. After the last people fell, Stash sighed in relief, as though an enormous load had been lifted from him.

Nyx peeled her hands off his shoulders and circled back around to face him. “It is done. When they awake, they will be back to normal.” Then, in a flash of movement, she grabbed Constantine Wildman by his crushed-velvet jacket and quickly slit his throat with a black dagger. “All but one.” She tossed the dead witch’s body to the ground.

The angels didn’t blink. I didn’t either. I was too busy gaping at Nyx in shock. I knew why the First Angel had done it. Constantine Wildman had created this problem by trying to gain magic his witches couldn’t have, magic by forbidden means. Nyx’s response was swift. Merciless. That was the gods’ justice, the Legion’s justice. Nyx might have her moments of humanity, but she was still the First Angel.