by Caris Roane
He searched her eyes. “I owe you my life, Grace. I was near death when you brought me into your convent cell and fed me your beautiful blood. You stayed with me over the next few days, and fed me a second time. I would have died but for you—and it wasn’t just your blood. Your kindness fed me just as much, and your acceptance of me even though my service as a spy, as Greaves’s right-hand man all those decades, helped to strengthen his hold on Second Earth. Your compassion saved my life.”
“Leto, I know your soul and that you suffer with a profound sense of guilt over building Greaves’s army. But I also know that you wouldn’t have done it unless you felt it was necessary to complete your mission. So you have no reason to feel guilty. You were under orders, and like any good soldier, you did your duty.”
He held her close. She was well named. A woman could not have had more grace than the woman in his arms. Her words were a balm to his tortured soul. “I wish that I had known you better all those centuries.”
He felt her sigh. “I wasn’t exactly present in my life then. All I was really doing was avoiding the war.”
“Now you’re here.”
She drew back. “Now I’m here. And all I’m asking is that you forgive Casimir.”
He sighed heavily because the mere mention of that hedonist’s name brought shards of rage piercing his skull. “You’ll have to give me time, Grace. I won’t easily be able to forgive the man who took you away from me.”
“I know. But you must try. Please. And trust in what I’ve told you; that our fates are secured together with Casimir’s, that without him none of us will survive.”
“You’re asking me to forgive the past because of something that is going to happen in the future, something that required you to leave with Casimir all those months ago.”
“Yes, that is exactly what I’m asking.”
Leto knew she was right. That was the worst of it. He had been an ascended vampire for thirty-two hundred years and he knew how these emerging powers worked. Things were known, or not known. The future became very fluid. Faith had to be applied … and trust. Did he trust Grace, in this new obsidian power of hers, the absolute knowing that she experienced, even about Casimir?
The answer came to him in a strong yes. He trusted her and he believed in her, but that didn’t mean that she would be loyal to him or even succeed in remaining alive. Both realities drove a stake through his heart.
Yes, he knew the score. Very little was permanent in ascension, so just how was he to commit himself to the woman in his arms?
The hell if he knew. “I have to give a speech at the opening ceremonies about an hour from now. Let me fold you back to the cabin and you can shower and dress. After I’m gone, I’ll send two squads of Militia Warriors to guard you.” When he felt her stiffen, he added, “And in this, my dear Grace, you will accept my orders. If I must overcome my bitterness toward Casimir”—the name came out laced with a little sulfur—“then you must accept what protection I can offer you. Greaves will soon know that you’ve come back, if he doesn’t know already. I want you safe.”
He felt her take a breath then sigh like she was swallowing a brick. “Fine.”
“Yes. Fine. I’ll fold us now.”
“As you wish.”
Actually, what he wished was to take her back to bed.
But that would have to wait. Hopefully, not for long. This first of three nights of the warrior games would only last a couple of hours. Then, if they weren’t quarreling, he would make love to her again. And again.
Change is a mirror with many facets,
Always reflecting the soul’s long journey.
—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth
CHAPTER 4
Greaves sat at the head of his Geneva Round Table, in the throne-like chair he had designed to place him above any who would come to serve the Coming Order. The table represented his dreams of one day ruling Second Earth. He put his finger to his lips and plucked. He could feel the frown between his brows.
Earlier, he had felt the cosmic ripple indicating that Grace Albion, the blue variety of obsidian flame, had returned to the lower dimensions.
On the heels of this unwelcome sensation came the reports from his Seers Fortresses that had shrunk his testicles. Essentially, a decisive battle was coming. Thorne’s army, supported by the obsidian flame triad, would be mobilizing soon. But that was all the reports had said—not when there would be a battle, or who the victor would be.
He sighed heavily, his gaze drifting over the table, back and forth. He had not gathered an assembly of High Administrators here in almost two years, from the time that Alison Wells had ascended to Second Earth and bonded with Warrior Kerrick. Her ascension had been the beginning of a long nightmare where his plans were concerned. Since her arrival, even more powerful women had risen to become bonded with several of the über-powerful Warriors of the Blood, ultimately changing the political landscape and forcing Greaves to shift his strategies again and again.
At present, the round table was empty and would remain so until the war was won. But for the first time in his long life, he knew that all his glorious dreams, including an administration that would meet here in Geneva and run the Coming Order, were in jeopardy.
He leaned an elbow on the well-padded arm of his chair and tugged once more at his lower lip.
Grace had finally returned from her little sojourn on Fourth, studying at his mother’s knee while romping in Casimir’s bed. His mother would have liked Grace’s spiritual inclinations, and Casimir would have made liberal use of her body since apparently he had been her breh.
Now she was back, having left both Beatrice and Casimir behind.
Though he prided himself on his generally positive attitude, he couldn’t help but feel morbid about her return. In point of fact, he had been dreading this moment for one simple reason: He would now have to deal with obsidian flame, because Grace would complete the triad.
The truth was that Greaves simply didn’t know what obsidian flame would be capable of once it launched. Two of the pieces were already in place. Fiona Gaines, now breh to Warrior Jean-Pierre, was the gold variety, and Marguerite Dresner, breh to Thorne, was the red variety. Add blue, as in Grace, and who knew what level of power the three women could achieve. It was even rumored that Thorne, himself, was obsidian flame, but Greaves didn’t know what his role was, or possibly could be. So the whole thing was just one giant assfuck waiting to happen.
Five months ago when Grace had taken off with Casimir, she had disappeared from the future streams, which had then forced Greaves into a holding pattern. Unable to learn when she was most likely to return, he knew that any attempt to take over Second Earth risked the possibility that she could show up, engage with obsidian flame, and destroy his plans.
However, he still had the advantage over Endelle in terms of the size of his army. At two million strong, thanks to Leto, he could subdue Endelle’s forces any day of the week. In addition, he had some sway with COPASS, since at least a third of the members were addicted to dying blood. It wasn’t a perfect situation, but he could frequently manipulate international politics to side with him.
On the other hand, Endelle still had the majority of territories aligned with her. Of course, she was now losing them at a rate of one a week because Greaves had been impressing the High Administrators with his army as well as offering all sorts of incentives to align with the Coming Order.
But Grace was back, and he would have to start dealing with her. She and Leto would be his primary targets over the next few days. His secondary object was to destroy the hidden colony network on Mortal Earth. His Seers Fortresses had relayed a constant stream of prophetic information about that network, which indicated Leto had built up a formidable army among what turned out to be a thousand hidden colonies worldwide on Mortal Earth. According to Seer information some of those colonies had over ten thousand residents.
But finding the colonies had been a bitch. However, with the first loca
tion mapped and his teams reporting great success with his transmitter concept, he knew that within days all of the colonies would be visible on his electronic grid.
For that reason alone—that the hidden colony network was nearly in his grasp—the timing of Grace’s return frustrated the hell out of him. Once he knew the exact locations of each colony, he had planned on destroying them one by one and thereby the army that Leto had built within the Militia Warrior population of each colony. After each community was brought under his control, he would then extract what he believed was a vast wealth of Seers and force them into his various Seers Fortresses. He dared even the powerful Marguerite to best him then.
But now Grace was back, which would no doubt put obsidian flame into play. The timing was an absolute bitch.
He closed his eyes and calmed his spirit. He would need to keep a cool head to face the challenges of the next few days and weeks. He developed a new mantra: Stay focused, capture and eradicate Grace, destroy the hidden colonies.
As he rose from his chair, he decided it was time to put to work his most powerful Seer: Owen Stannett.
He focused on Stannett and found him in his private meditation room, where he knew the pervert liked to cruise the future streams and do his own form of porn viewing: real couples, future time. He gave him a mental nudge as a warning, waited a few seconds, then simply folded from Geneva Two all the way to the inner depths of the Illinois Two Seers Fortress.
He found Stannett on his chaise longue, zipping up his pants and rising to a sitting position. “Master,” Stannett said, looking up at him. His cheeks were flushed as he patted the immaculately coiffed wave alongside his head.
“Enjoying yourself I see.”
At that, Stannett smiled. “Always, but to what do I owe the honor of your visit?” He turned and slid his legs over the side of the chaise.
“Well, my friend, if you had not been so busy beneath your leathers, you might have noticed a slight wavering in the fabric of space and time, a rumbling as it were in the order of the entire universe.”
Stannett frowned.
“Grace has returned.”
His eyes went wide. “Well, finally. What do you intend to do?”
“To find her and separate her from the herd if I can. Then I’ll give her to one of my Third Earth death vampires as a snack.”
Stannett eyed him carefully. “I’ve always wondered how you managed to bring Third Earth death vampires down here to Second Earth when the portal to Third has been closed all this time.”
At that, Greaves smiled. He had his own secrets, and since he didn’t really trust Stannett, he said, “I have many powers, my friend.”
Stannett chuckled. “Well, I do like the idea of giving Grace to your vampires to feed on.”
Stannett was not a squeamish vampire, but then a man who had raped his own Seers when he was the High Administrator of the Superstition Mountain Seers Fortress did not have the loftiest morals.
“I want you to recommence your experiments harnessing yourself to six Seers. I must have pure vision.”
“But, master, you know the difficulty. The Seers keep dying.”
“I no longer care. I shall have the best Seers from my Mumbai, Johannesburg, and Bogotá Fortresses shipped here as needed. From all your experiments over the past several months, we both know that a more powerful Seer has a greater chance of surviving the process. The Coming Order is in grave danger because of obsidian flame and because of the colonial militia. Grace completes the triad, as you well know. I must have the most perfect visions of the progress of the triad over the coming days. Are you still unable to track any of the Warriors of the Blood?”
“Marguerite guards them all from me while in the future streams. She has great power. Greater than mine.”
“But I know that you have the power to block her in the future streams as well, right?”
Stannett nodded.
“Then do so going forward. But right now, I’d like a little information.” He directed Stannett to recline once more on his chaise longue. “I want you to enter the future streams and as you do, I will join my mind with yours so that I can see what you see. I want you to focus on Grace. At the very least, I want to know where she has gone, though I already suspect she is with Leto at the Seattle Colony.”
Stannett stretched out once more, folded his hands over his stomach, and closed his eyes.
Greaves put his hand on Stannett’s forehead and slipped within. He ignored the chaos that came at him from all quarters, all that Stannett was as an ascended vampire. He joined his mind to Stannett’s as the Seer began to focus. He had done this a handful of times over the centuries so he knew what to expect. But he was still surprised at the beauty of the future stream ribbons that flowed endlessly away from the eye and stretched in an infinite range of colors.
Stannett centered his mind on Grace, and a lot of the chaos disappeared.
The line of ribbons began to move rapidly for several seconds, then slowed until an iridescent blue ribbon of light appeared, bearing a central stream of red and gold. Greaves could feel that the ribbon belonged to Grace.
Stannett picked up Grace’s ribbon again and felt his way into the immediate future. How curious that Greaves could tell that what he saw would happen this very evening. Though he had not been to the Seattle hidden colony, he could sense the location. How absurdly quaint. Beyond the rows of cottage-like homes, each with attached vegetable gardens, was a massive setup like a medieval fair with canvas booths. Opposite the booths was an oval track set up for runners with lanes. In the center of the racetrack were all sorts of jumbles of logs and blocks and old used tires, like you’d find in army training camps. This his Seers had prophesied; he recognized the warrior games.
The vision moved suddenly to Grace, who sat in the grandstands near the oval track beside Leto. She held his arm and looked up at him. She wore a long loose skirt, jewelry on both her wrists, her hair curled and hanging in a golden cloud around her shoulders and down her back. An array of silver stars crowned her head.
She looked different, changed, more womanly, less like a convent devotiate. But then she’d shared Casimir’s bed. Maybe he’d brought her up to speed.
The vision panned back even farther, but what Greaves saw sent a chill straight through him. On Grace’s left were Marguerite and Thorne, and on Leto’s right sat Fiona and Warrior Jean-Pierre.
In other words, obsidian flame would start coming together tonight.
He had seen enough of the warrior games. To Stannett’s mind, he sent, I want you to focus on the hidden colony we mapped at Nazca in Peru.
Stannett merely shifted his focus. The ribbons began to move rapidly for a few seconds, this time in the opposite direction, then slowed. A sand-colored ribbon rose. Stannett dove within so that Greaves saw the very small colony, with just a few hundred ascenders in residence. Above the mossy dome of mist, now partially burned away, dozens of death vampires appeared in flight, beautiful black wings flapping. They descended on the colonists below, in close-mount, wings pulled in tight. When the screaming started, Greaves smiled.
He watched the entire vision play out until the moment Leto arrived; then the vision faded, blocked by Marguerite. But he was left with an idea that involved Leto and at least ten of his Third Earth death vampires. He was still very unhappy that Leto had proved to be so disloyal. He wanted his skin and if he could get it, he would. Given that he knew where Leto would be, this seemed as good an opportunity as any to make an effort.
As he drew out from the vision, he had his next course of action in hand. He would destroy the first of the colonies, a good beginning. And in the process, maybe he could take Leto down as well. No doubt Endelle would retaliate, which he hoped would mean that she would make some sort of use of obsidian flame. More than anything else, he needed to figure out what the triad could do if he had any hopes of winning the coming battle.
He reiterated that he wanted Stannett to put all his effort in to harnessing See
rs, as many as it would take to achieve pure vision. “This is your top priority. I must have the best possible information that you can provide me. The next several days will be critical to the Coming Order. Do you understand?”
Stannett nodded gravely. “I understand, master.”
“Good.”
With his plans set in place, Greaves smiled the entire distance back to Geneva.
* * *
“But I miss Grace already.” Kendrew’s brow tightened.
“All will be well,” Casimir said. “She had to return to Mortal Earth to help a friend, but she will be back. She promised me she would.”
Kendrew didn’t look convinced, but why would he trust anything Casimir said? He hadn’t exactly provided his boys with the most stable environment—except of course for these several idyllic months with Grace, in Beatrice’s palace. He’d actually watched his boys start to relax, even to run and play as boys should.
Casimir lay on the soft silks of his bed, in the redemption gown of white linen that he wore day and night since entering Beatrice’s program. His skin felt as though it should be blistered because he was in such terrible pain, his soul no less so, but he knew the pain he felt was of a spiritual nature and would soon pass.
For now, he had much to think about.
Beatrice had tried to warn him to follow the program and to not hurry his steps. But from the time he’d made the decision to enter the program in hopes of preserving his precious hide, he’d experienced a terrible urgency to move forward as quickly as he could.
He had arrived as Grace’s breh and had taken her into his bed, making love to her for the first few weeks. He’d fallen in love with her and couldn’t imagine a life without her, yet he knew that part of his journey was over as well.
But it was when he felt his impending death as strongly as Grace did that he’d made the decision to do the impossible and to attempt to redeem his soul. He wanted to live. More than anything, he wanted to live to raise his boys, to make up for the self-absorbed behavior that had cost them their mother’s life.
