“Come in,” Sloan’s gruff voice came from within.
Nicolas braced himself, set his shoulders into a pious slouch, and opened the door, offering Sloan a tight-lipped smile below a polite, questioning look.
“Good morning, Commander. Can we talk?”
Sloan sat back in his chair, threading his fingers across his stomach. His cold blue eyes were assessing as he gestured for Nicolas to take a seat across from him.
He sat, tucking his hands under his legs. “I-I wanted to thank you.”
Sloan’s brows rose. “Thank me?”
“Yes sir. I didn’t want to admit it yesterday, but you were right. I… I was a coward. I’d seen what that demon did to the people it killed, and fear took hold of me. I wanted to help my men, but in that moment, I didn’t even feel in control of my body anymore.” His eyes welled. “I carried the guilt with me from that moment on, until you had mecleansed.” He breathed the word reverently, raising his awed gaze to meet Sloan’s.
Sloan’s expression didn’t change, but Nicolas saw what lurked underneath. He’d surprised Sloan, but there was suspicion there, too. Nicolas bowed his head, pressing on.
“The guilt isn’t gone completely. I doubt it ever will be. But with those lashes came clarity. I want to be the best paladin I can be, sir. I want to be someone worthy of this symbol.” He touched the signet ring on his left hand. He’d worn it for so long he barely noticed it most days. “I let you down before. I letmy fatherdown before. You were right; he would have been ashamed of me. It won’t happen again. I have been reborn, and I am more convinced than ever that the good we’re doing here will carry on for centuries to come. You’ll have countless jewels in your crown when you get to Heaven for all the good you’ve done here, sir, I’m certain of it.”
Sloan’s eyes glittered. He liked that.
Nicolas went on, putting the final piece into motion. It burned his pride, but it wouldn’t matter in the long run. Not if this worked. Bowing his head again, humbly, he said, “I don’t feel worthy to hold my station anymore, sir. I’d like to join someone else’s squad until I’ve earned the captain’s title again.”
Sloan leaned forward, gaze sharpening. “Someone like Elijah, I take it?”
Oh. He thought Nicolas was vying for a chance to be on the same squad as Daniel again.
“No, sir, not at all. I think Elijah would be too soft on me. I was thinking someone like James, if he has an opening on his squad.”
James was a hardass, and one of Sloan’s loudest and most loyal supporters. He firmly believed all demons were evil and anyone who associated with them was bound for Hell, no exceptions. Getting in good with James and his squad would be a step toward earning Sloan’s trust.
Sloan looked contemplative. “I think we can squeeze you in, yeah. Take the rest of the week to heal and get your mind right—although it sounds like you’re already on the right track. In the meantime, you can train with James’s squad. I’ll let him know to expect you. They should be meeting at the training yard today. They’re on the docket.”
Nicolas stood. “Thank you, sir.”
“Paladin Garcia, can I ask—what did your brother think about your cleansing?”
Nicolas affected an uncertain frown. “Truthfully, sir, we had a bit of an argument after we left HQ. I told him I thought I deserved it. He disagreed, said it wasn’t my fault. I think he meant well, but I don’t believe him. I was their captain. Of course it was my fault.”
Sloan’s cool gaze was unblinking. “Agreed. But you seem to have found the right path. That’s the important thing. Report to James at the training yard at 1300 hours. I’ll let him know to expect you.” He picked up his cell phone, and Nicolas tracked the movement.
What he’d give to see the contents of that phone. Hewondered if there was a way to nab it. Did he text orders to his followers? Was the kids’ location right there within reach? For a wild moment, he entertained the idea of snatching it right out of Sloan’s hand and making a run for it. No one outside this room would know why he was running. He could probably make it to the parking lot.
But if there was nothing worthwhile on the phone, he’d have blown his chances. He couldn’t risk it. He’d have to keep playing it safe for now.
Sloan spared him a glance. “All right, he’s confirmed it. You’re dismissed.”
Nicolas saluted. “Thank you, sir.”
He escaped from the room without a backward glance. No amount of showering would be enough to make him feel clean after this.
Jamesand his squad regarded Nicolas like he was something regrettable on the bottom of their shoe, but since they had orders from Sloan to work him into their drills, that was exactly what they did.
First, they sprinted hard, slapping him on the back if he slowed down. They practiced drills next. Nicolas was on the front row while James circled them, whacking them with a wooden practice sword whenever he saw anything less than perfect form. He hit Nicolas the most, and the others always chuckled when he did. They didn’t laugh when he corrected anyone else, though. Only him.
After that, they sparred—or rather, each one of them took turns sparring withhim. James said it was so they could all become familiar with his fighting style, but Nicolas knewbetter. He did okay for the first half. By the fifth opponent, he was exhausted. His limbs shook, and his mouth was bone dry. They threw him to the dirt, over and over. He lost count of all the places they’d hit him with their practice swords. His whole body throbbed in time with his pulse. They weren’t playing fair, but he didn’t really expect them to. This was a test. If he couldn’t stick it out, Sloan would know he’d given him empty words.
He thought about the Alvarez kids, who must be scared out of their minds. He thought of Daniel and Julian, whom he couldn’t join until he’d done this. He missed spending time with them. Things hadn’t been the same since Sloan erected that cleansing post. Daniel had been one of the first to be cleansed, and not long after that, Julian had left the guild completely. It had been too dangerous to reach out to him after that, and then he’d gone into hiding after a squad tried to kill him. Nicolas missed the way things used to be, when their world still made sense.
And what of Ashmedai? Maybe Daniel was right—Ashmedai didn’t understand humans. Maybe Nicolas had been too harsh. The intensity of their relationship scared the shit out of him, but he wasn’t a coward—and he’d acted like one. He’d run away at the first sign of trouble. He didn’t know if he wanted to be with a demon. It feltgoodto be with Ashmedai, but he couldn’t ignore all the voices in his head telling him that it just couldn’t work out in the long run. They were too different. They didn’t understand each other.
