by Caris Roane
She needed Leto and she needed him now.
* * *
Leto had never experienced anything like this in his long vampire life. The last thing he’d expected was for Grace to become so jealous that she’d actually had to leave the games. But as soon as he saw her fangs, he’d understood that she was completely and beautifully out of control.
So here he was, having her draw on his neck. Though her deep pulls had slowed and it was clear her original ferocity was dialing down, everything about this moment was so at odds with the sweet, reverential woman he’d always known Grace to be.
The truth was, he loved it, and the beast in him was yelling at him to finish this the way he needed it finished.
At last, Grace removed her fangs and pulled back enough to meet his gaze. Her gold-green eyes glinted in the dark forest night. She had run far enough away from the games that silence surrounded them. He was alone with her.
Very alone.
“My turn,” he said, his voice deep.
She nodded. He pulled her up against the nearest tree. The rough bark would hurt her but he had a plan. “Get rid of your skirt and thong.”
“Okay.” A moment later he felt only flesh against the palm of his hand.
With a thought, he lost his kilt and briefs. “Put your arms around my neck and hold on.”
She did. “God, I need you.”
“Same here.”
With one hand, he lifted her left thigh. She lifted her other leg and he supported her underneath. He angled himself and pushed. He found her so wet that his knees buckled as he groaned.
“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m strong and I can hold you like this.”
“I know.”
Bending his knees, he began to drive into her. It wasn’t the most elegant position but by God it worked, because he was inside her and that’s exactly where he needed to be.
She moaned against his ear, then his temple and his neck. There was nothing like strong muscles to get something organized and working just right.
But he needed just a little more resistance so he folded his kilt into his hand, placed the kilt behind Grace, backed her up against the tree, then seated her against the leather. He moved into her again.
Yes, that’s better, she sent.
Reassured and with her anchored, he could push the way he wanted to. She kissed him. He tasted his blood, and because she was crying into his mouth, he started pumping hard.
Leto, come. Please. Aloud, she said, “Please. Now.”
She threw her head back and then he understood. She was coming, and that brought his orgasm streaking through his cock. She gripped his hair and grunted, holding back her cries because anyone could be in the forest right now.
He came and came. His cock jerked inside her, and she threw her head back again, hitting the tree and resting there.
She was breathing hard. So was he. He could feel her clench around him, and it was a wonderful sensation: that he was inside her when he hadn’t planned to be there quite yet, that he was connected to her like this, to Grace, to his breh, that she had been so overcome with jealous rage that she had run from the games, into the forest, probably trying to escape all those possessive feelings.
He knew how she felt. The breh-hedden was a tough master. If he’d been able to follow after Casimir, he was pretty sure he would have killed him for taking Grace away.
Kissing the side of her neck, he said softly, “If the situation had been reversed, if you had been cheering for another man, I don’t think I could have borne it. I will try to temper my actions toward Brynna.”
But Grace pulled back. “I don’t want you to have to do that. I feel like such a cretin. I don’t even know myself. It’s the breh-hedden.”
He shook his head. “Not entirely. I’ve talked to both Thorne and Jean-Pierre. They’ve both said that essentially you just become more of who you really are.”
At that, she seemed to relax, though she frowned. “Is this who I am? A jealous monster?”
But he gripped her around the waist a little more and pumped his hips once to make his point. “I like this part of you. No, I love that you got so worked up. You can do this for me anytime.”
She just shook her head. “How am I supposed to do that and still remain a civilized part of our society?”
He shrugged then kissed her. When he drew back, he said, “Well, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s something we’ll just have to work on, set some boundaries, have a couple of signals.”
“Oh, you mean like when you see my fangs emerge, you’ll know I intend to run off into the forest?”
She was sarcastic, but he pumped his hips again, and she groaned against him. “And I’ll follow you every time.”
He began sucking on her neck. Then he had new idea. “I think turnabout’s fair play, don’t you?”
“We should get back,” she said, but her voice was little more than a whisper.
He licked her neck and what do you know, her vein rose for him. The thought of taking her down his throat brought his cock to attention once more and she groaned again. “Do it, Leto. Just do it.”
He bit her and sucked, then went to work on her, driving his hips hard once more.
* * *
A couple of hours later, Grace congratulated Brynna on her win. The warrior had a gold medal around her neck suspended on a purple silk ribbon. She was taller than Grace by at least two inches and couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
Grace took deep breaths as Leto slapped Brynna on her back and fawned over her. She could see the level of friendship they shared: best friends. Just terrific.
Grace wasn’t used to having a boyfriend but she really didn’t like that she was so ridiculously jealous.
Marguerite drew close and elbowed her softly. “Hey, do you want me to boil her in oil for you?”
Grace glanced down at her, startled. “I … uh … what do you mean? Why would you say that?” She tried to laugh, but the sound came out a little strangled.
“You look like you’re ready to kill her.”
Grace sighed and looked away. “I’m going out of my mind. I mean, he had a life while I was gone.”
“Leto wasn’t sleeping with her. I know that for a fact. Bryn and I are good friends. She’s good people. You can trust her.”
Grace looked down at Marguerite and turned a shoulder to the warm exchange five feet away that was driving her crazy. “I know and I wasn’t exactly a saint while I was gone. The whole thing is too ridiculous for words. I just can’t seem to control how I feel. It’s the breh-hedden.”
“You know, usually it’s the other way around. The men get horribly possessive, although I did see it once with Parisa when I hit on Medichi.”
“Wait, you hit on Antony? When? Oh, my God, Thorne must have gone ballistic.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“And Parisa?”
“She wanted to tear my face off. She had just launched herself at me, and was ready to get into a serious catfight, when Endelle intervened and used her stasis skill to stop the action.” Marguerite sighed. “I admit I was behaving badly but in my defense, I didn’t quite understand at the time what the breh-hedden meant.”
“But you had been with Thorne all that time in the Convent.”
“Yeah, I know. But I was also intent on making my escape to Mortal Earth and living my own life.”
“You changed pretty soon after that.”
Marguerite glanced at Thorne, who was deep in conversation with Jean-Pierre and Fiona. “Everything changed. I did, my obsidian power emerged, and Thorne really changed. He’s spent the last five months building Endelle’s army. He’s done an amazing job.”
“He looks wonderful. Do you remember how red-rimmed his eyes used to be?”
“Too much Ketel One.”
“Yes.” She met Marguerite’s gaze once more. “I wanted to thank you again for being there for Thorne all those years. I was so grateful to you and I know I thanked you,
but it never felt like enough. I think you saved his life.”
“Well, he saved mine, too. Maybe that’s why we were meant to be together—because we ended up saving each other, repeatedly.”
Grace looked at Leto, who was still praising Brynna and laughing with her. She thought about what Marguerite had said. Was she meant to be with Leto because they could save each other? And in her case, exactly what would that look like?
Leto glanced at Brynna. “Do you need to report somewhere?”
“Yeah, the coordinator wants all the participants to sign in then head to bed. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
Leto nodded. “Good. I’ll see you then.”
Brynna shifted her gaze to Grace and drew close. “It’s great to see you again. I’m so glad you’ve come home to us.” She slid her gaze briefly toward Leto, then back. “We’ve needed you here.”
Brynna was being too nice, which made Grace feel guilty and very foolish. “Again, congratulations on winning your event.”
Her smile broadened to a grin and she fingered her medal once more. “Thanks. It was a thrill. Well, I need to do some serious stretching, then find my bed. Good night.”
“Night, Bryn.” Leto’s voice carried a hint of affection, which brought Grace’s beast rising once more.
As Brynna walked away, however, Grace felt vibrations from deep within the earth that had nothing to do with jealousy. Instead, her obsidian flame power was coming online very suddenly.
Her skirt flowed around her ankles, and as the power rose it moved the long sides of her blouse, then lifted the tips of her hair. She glanced from Thorne to Marguerite to Fiona and back. Each turned toward her.
She didn’t understand what was happening. She remembered earlier that something similar had occurred when all three of them were together, yet this still felt different.
Leto’s eyes popped wide and he drew close. “You have a blue aura, Grace. What’s going on?”
She lifted her hand, waiting. She felt something or someone calling to her, calling for help. By now the power was flowing uninterrupted through the top of her head. She lifted both hands palms up, as if in supplication. A sense of urgency flew through her now in rippling waves, but urgency for what?
She closed her eyes and focused on the call, for she could think of it no other way, as though forces out there were summoning her. Unfortunately it hurt, because her obsidian power wasn’t opened all the way yet.
Despite the pain, she kept her focus. She opened her eyes and became fixed on Marguerite. “Check the future streams. Now. I think one of the other hidden colonies is in trouble, but I don’t know which one.”
Marguerite nodded then turned to Thorne. “I can feel it as well. I need to drop into the future streams and find out what’s going on. But this feels big and it feels really bad. Come support me?”
“You got it.” He moved to stand beside her, an arm around her waist.
Fiona moved in close as well, Jean-Pierre behind her. “Yes, it feels very big,” Fiona said. “My obsidian power is vibrating like crazy.”
Thorne addressed Leto. “Get Diallo and Endelle over here. Now.”
Choosing the courageous path,
Even while trapped in fear,
Honors the Creator.
—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth
CHAPTER 6
As Grace stood in the middle of the event grounds, she swore the very air among the small group took on a tactile quality that could actually be touched.
Leto took command.
He whipped his phone from the deep pocket of his kilt and punched a couple of times. “Hey, Diallo, sorry to intrude, there’s a problem and we need you. Can you fold to the landing platforms? We’ll meet you there.” He nodded as though Diallo could see him. “Good.”
He then changed phones, whipping his warrior phone from the top slit in his flight battle kilt. He called Jeannie and issued the order to get Endelle to the colony immediately. “To my position.” He then contacted the colony’s Militia Warrior HQ. He authorized Madame Endelle’s fold, then added, “I want all the Pacific Northwest warriors on alert. Let the Section Leaders know. We’ll be assembling teams at the landing platforms ASAP.”
Grace held her power steady, uncertain what she was doing, but she went with her instincts. Something big was happening, something dangerous, that much she could sense. The problem was, her head was really starting to hurt. She took deep breaths.
She fixed her gaze on Marguerite and continued to hold her palms up. Thorne turned to Marguerite. “Are you ready to do this?”
She nodded, then closed her eyes. A second later her body jerked, but Thorne kept her steady so that she didn’t fall. Her eyes moved rapidly beneath her eyelids, back and forth, as though she was reading something. Her body jerked again and her hand went to her stomach as she opened her eyes.
She looked at Grace then at Thorne. “We have maybe ten minutes, but I don’t know where this is. It’s an attack on one of the hidden colonies. The top of the mossy-mist dome just like this one”—she pointed up—“looked as though it had been burned off and was still burning. Death vampires, maybe two hundred of them, were flying into the colony from all directions.”
Leto nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly. He held his warrior phone and issued orders.
Grace glanced in the direction of the landing platforms. It was amazing to watch all the Militia Warriors, dozens of them, start gathering in squadrons, off to the left of the platforms as though by long habit. Leto’s drilling, no doubt.
Leto addressed the group. “I’m sounding the alarm.” He spoke into the phone; the next moment a series of tones hit the air in groups of three. The colonists and the foreign contestants all stopped what they were doing. The contest grounds fell completely silent.
To Grace’s complete shock, everyone began moving in prearranged directions away from the grounds. Within seconds, only Militia Warriors remained, and all of them were assembling with amazing speed by the landing platforms.
“Leto,” Jean-Pierre murmured. “You have worked miracles here.”
Leto nodded, but he set his gaze on Thorne.
Thorne was the man in charge, the one who was building Endelle’s army and working with dozens of Militia Warrior Section Leaders to formulate battle plans. He said, “It’s clear we’re looking at trouble with a hidden colony here on Mortal Earth, so I’m deferring to Leto on this. He’s set up the global defense system for this dimension.”
Leto glanced toward the landing platforms. “My men know what to do. What we need is the location of the attack.”
A moment later, Endelle folded right next to Thorne, adjusting a strange necklace of pinecones and butterflies. She twisted her neck and gave the necklace one more turn. “Just got the call from Jeannie that we have some deep shit going on here.” She caught sight of Grace. “And why does our latest obsidian flame look like a goddam glowing Smurf?”
A few nervous barks of laughter followed.
Grace couldn’t help herself. She laughed as well, then sobered instantly. Dear Creator, her head really hurt.
“We’ve got trouble.” Leto said. He glanced at Marguerite then back. “Future streams just told us one of the colonies will be under attack in a few minutes.”
“Which colony?”
“We don’t know.”
Endelle turned to Thorne, “Well, you’re obsidian flame. Can’t you find out?” She planted her hands on her hips, which drew Grace’s gaze back to the pinecone-butterfly necklace, then to the bees that appeared to be buzzing around Endelle’s calves and knees.
Grace was convinced that no one was as absurd as the ruler of Second Earth. She might even have laughed at the strange outfit, but her obsidian power set up a new wave and her head really started to pound. She winced.
Then she understood. “I think I can find the colony. I remember now that when Leto was in trouble in Moscow, my obsidian flame power led me to him through my split-self apparition. I believ
e I can do it again here. Marguerite, why don’t you show me what you saw in the future streams, and we’ll see what happens.”
“Okay.”
Grace crossed to Marguerite and put her hands on her face. “Show me,” she said quietly.
The vision flew through her mind swiftly and seemed to resonate with her obsidian power. The next moment she was flying through space in that same split-self, her ghost-like apparition, the one she’d used to bring Leto out of Moscow Two. She could sense that she was heading south, as in South America.
When she arrived at the vision’s destination, she looked around. She could see both the limited farmland and the nearby barren hills. She saw a small town, maybe ten or twenty thousand people. Not far, and to the east of a dry riverbed, lay the colony, all secure and locked down with Diallo’s mossy-mist creation protecting the location. However, as she turned in every direction, she could see death vampires on each horizon all headed toward the colony.
She dipped her apparition-self toward the lights of the town and found the name on a couple of storefronts: Nazca. She knew this place. The entire world was fascinated with the famous lines that an ancient culture had drawn in the sand, which could still be viewed, all these hundreds of years later, from high in the air. A spider and a hummingbird were the most famous designs.
Satisfied, she thought the thought and her apparition-self began flying back to the Seattle Colony. When she reconnected with herself, it took a moment to adjust. She opened her eyes and found everyone staring at her with wide eyes. Leto had shifted to support her, holding her by the waist.
She blinked a couple of times. “I’m sure that must have seemed strange but I have the location. Nazca, Peru.” At the same moment, however, her headache tore through her skull. She dropped to her knees, clutching the sides of her head. She felt Leto’s strong hands on her shoulders and as if at a distance she could hear his voice, but she couldn’t respond. Tears streamed down her face. “Grace, I’m here. What’s wrong?”
Marguerite said, “She has to get that sheath sliced, Leto. It’s her power. It’s trying to break through. Better do it soon.”
