Leda’s Log. A behind-the-scenes, slice-of-life look into the Legion of Angels, hosted by Leda Pandora, the Angel of Chaos.

Warning: may include abnormally-large cats and adorable baby angels.

I have a longer entry for you guys today. If you didn’t think anyone could out-eat Leda, think again.

Leda’s Log

Part 7: Chocolate is a Dish Best Served…Always

We returned to the dining hall to refuel. And no one refueled as fast as Cupid. She might have been built like a model, but she ate like a horse. She was popping chocolate balls into her mouth like they were grapes, devouring them with inhuman efficiency. Now, I liked chocolate, but even I didn’t eat it like that.

“So, Cupid,” I began as she dipped a chicken nugget into a big bowl of fudge, “tell us more about your powers. I’ve never met someone with your kind of magic. It doesn’t really fit into the rules of magic as we understand them.”

“Rules change. You should know that better than anyone, Leda Pandora,” Cupid declared, then shoved the whole fudge-covered nugget into her mouth.

Well, wasn’t she cryptic? And you know who else enjoyed being cryptic? Gods and demons. If it weren’t for Cupid’s whole rules change philosophy—and her rather conspicuous love of junk food—I might have thought she was one of them. But if she was a deity, she was a deity cut from an entirely different kind of cloth.

“You are being evasive,” Nero told her. As always, he cut right to the point.

Cupid shrugged and grabbed the fried rice…then proceeded to eat it straight out of the bowl with the serving spoon.

“When’s the last time you got anything to eat?” I asked her.

“A few hours ago,” she replied between bites.

I looked at Nero, who lifted a disapproving brow. My husband was big on decorum.

“Gods, her table manners are even worse than yours, Leda,” Basanti snickered.

Cupid slammed the bowl down on the table, drawing her bow. For a moment, I thought Basanti’s words had offended her, but she turned to aim her weapon at the dining hall doors. A moment later, the doors quaked, like someone had pounded it with a battering ram.

“This isn’t good,” Cupid muttered.

The wooden surface of the doors started to sparkle, then swirl, like it wasn’t entirely solid anymore.

“I thought we’d have more time,” she added.

The wood continued to sparkle and swirl like molten metal. There was a swish!—then a gargantuan creature melted out of the door.

“I thought you sent those creatures back where they came from,” I said to Cupid.

“I did.” Her bowstring hummed with magic as she drew it back. “This is a different breed of beast entirely.”

I saw that as soon as the creature finished taking solid form. The armored beast looked like a cross between a giant kangaroo and an angry armadillo. Oh, and its spiked, wrecking-ball tail was on fire.

“How did this ‘something else’ make it into my castle?” Leila demanded.

“The same way as the other creatures did,” replied Cupid. “Through the dimensional rift in the lab.”

“The rift is still open.” Nero’s voice was level, calm, threatening.

“Yes, it’s still open,” said Cupid. “And as long as it is, creatures from that dimension will continue to come here.”

“Tell us how to close the rift,” Nero said in that same dark and dangerous voice.

We can’t do anything about it,” replied Cupid.

“I don’t believe that,” I told her.

“Of course you don’t. But nonetheless, that is our reality.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I insisted. “Somehow. We always do.”

Cupid didn’t say anything.

“But in the meantime, can’t you do something about that guy?” I pointed at the armadillo-kangaroo. “Can’t you calm it down or something? You did that to the other creatures.”

“It won’t work.” Cupid shot an arrow at the beast anyway. It sank into its arm, exactly between two plates of armor. But instead of the beast going docile like the others had, it let out a bone-chilling roar. “See? This creature is different. Its emotions are not its own. They’ve been bottled up. And its free will’s been stamped out. The creature is being controlled. Changing its emotions won’t help if it doesn’t have any control over its own body.”

“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 us with your magic either,” Basanti pointed out. She glanced at Leila. “If we got 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 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 it was being controlled,” Basanti commented.

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

It only kind of helped. Or at least fear seemed to win out over anger. The creature tried to dive under one of the tables, but its body was so large that it fell onto the table rather than under it. 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.”

The creature stopped raging. It looked at the woman, whose skin had begun to glow. Actually, it was the tattoos all over her arms that were glowing. One of the tattoos peeled off her skin, just like the creature had peeled off of the closed doors. The tattoo turned into a white wolf. It glowed just like the creature before her. Just like Duke the Duck and the other creatures we’d met earlier.

“There’s no reason to be afraid.” The woman stepped toward the kangaroo-armadillo, reaching out with her hand.

The creature looked at the white wolf, who barked.

“That’s right,” she said, continuing to move forward. “We want to be your friends. Would you like that?”

The creature whimpered.

The woman smiled. “You’re lonely. I thought so. Come on.” She beckoned it forward. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

The creature strode toward her—and then into her. It passed through her like smoke. And then the smoke was just gone. A new tattoo appeared on the woman’s neck, just above the collarbone. A tattoo of a cute, golden kangaroo-armadillo.

The white wolf’s howl echoed through the hall.

“Don’t look at me like that, Whitney,” the woman sighed at the wolf. “Arvie was lonely. I had to help him.”

“Arvie?” I wondered.

“The creature.” The woman flicked her long hair off her shoulders. It was brown with subtle auburn highlights that glowed like her wolf—like all of our interdimensional visitors glowed. “His name is Arvie.” The glow on her highlights and tattoos faded.

“Ok, but who are you?” I asked her.

“I’m Dreamcatcher.” Her gaze flickered to Cupid, then snapped back to me. “And I’m here to fix the craptastic mess you folks got yourselves into.”

To be continued…

Another snack for Cupid? My oven is finally working again, so I made marble cake this week.

First Cupid, then Dreamcatcher. Who are these mysterious people with mysterious powers? Also, will Angel ever give poor, love-struck Shadow the time of day? Find out in future episodes of Leda’s Log!