by Sasha White
“I want one of these,” she said, chuckling.
He smiled and placed his hand on the center of her back, touching her between her wings. “Your wings are extraordinary. And gray, with a darker gray banding at the tips. They’re beautiful.”
“Like your eyes, Samuel,” she said softly. “Like your eyes.”
She craned her neck to look back at him. “And your wings are an incredible shade of blue.” She lowered her head, looking peaceful and relaxed. “Do you think that means something, that our wings reflect each other’s eye color?”
“I don’t know.” Her wings could have been polka-dotted, in bright yellow and purple, and he wouldn’t have cared. “I’m content more than I can say being connected to you like this.”
“I know what you mean.” She flapped her wings gently then released a deep sigh. “I do know what I want right now.”
“What?”
“To curl up beside you in bed and sleep for about a decade.”
He smiled. Nothing could have sounded better. “But I’d still like that shower.”
* * * * * * * * *
After spending the rest of the night and a good part of the day asleep, Vela awoke cradled in Samuel’s arms, facing him. She kept sighing, her contentment boundless. Earlier, around dawn, Samuel had awakened her gently then made love to her, bringing her to another roaring climax, which she was pretty sure Merl must have heard since both she and Samuel had cried out repeatedly.
If Merl had even come home last night.
Merl was one of those big unknowns, living almost hedonistically as a refugee from what sounded like a messed up dimension. But Merl wasn’t her problem right now, and hopefully never would be. He had his own path just as she had hers.
She lay beside Samuel, her head on his shoulder. She kept fondling the incredible curves of his pecs, the dip below his sternum, the rolling landscape of his abs. “I still want to work as a counselor, no matter what this new power means.”
To her surprise, Samuel chuckled. “Why? It seems to me you have a whole new path laid out for you.”
She hadn’t expected to hear something like that from him. She leaned back and met his gaze. “But, why wouldn’t I still want to counsel those unfortunate women? I’ve been studying psychology for years and I’ve had a lot of counseling myself. I think I could do some good.”
“Doing good isn’t the point. You’re not built for it.”
She didn’t like the direction of this exchange, but she pressed on. “I think you’re wrong and given what happened at the palace, when I was able to give Alison some peace, this new power I’m experiencing might just take my counseling to a new level. In which case, I could be of even more use.”
He frowned slightly. “Remind me again what you did?”
“I placed my hand on her forehead. I comforted Alison. The Alison Wells. I felt her empathic power flow through me and into her, easing her. And that’s one reason I think you’re wrong.”
“I didn’t mean to pick a fight this morning. It’s just that I’ve been inside your mind and I saw how much you loved traveling and living a more adventurous life. That’s all. I think you might want to open yourself up to, I don’t know, a calling that might have more meaning and purpose for you personally.”
“Like what? Like serving as a Militia Warrior?”
“I didn’t say that. In fact, I don’t think you’re a warrior. But this gift has to mean something, has to mean more than you think it does. Have you considered the possibility that the attack in 1922 affected you in a way that shut down your adventurous spirit, or did you already deal with that in counseling?”
Vela couldn’t quite meet his gaze because her conscience prickled her. During her sessions, she’d repeatedly glossed over the subject, afraid to plumb the depths of what had happened to her the night Jeff and his squad rescued her. “You may be right,” she said quietly. She then glanced at him and frowned. “But what of you, Samuel?”
He drew his arm from around her and crossed his arms to rest on top of his head. “What about me? I think I’m doing all right.”
With that one move, she knew she had a choice to make. If she pressed on, the argument would escalate. But his strident opinions of how she should best live her life rankled. And hey, turnabout was fair play, so she said, “I think you should become a Warrior of the Blood.”
“What?” he all but shouted, drawing his brow into a neat line of ridges. “You think I should become a What-Bee? Based on what?”
“On seeing you battle beside Thorne, you know, the Supreme High Commander of the Allied Forces, and Warrior Leto in his beast-state? You’re their equal. Hell, you might even exceed them, Samuel. What do you think of that?”
“My being equal in power has nothing to do with it. I’m a Militia Warrior. Even Gideon, after the breh-hedden took him down and his powers increased, didn’t join up. I belong to the Thunder God Warriors.”
“But Gideon has a different set of responsibilities. He’s Colonel Seriffe’s second-in-command. And you’re just a fighter.”
“I’m a back-up Section Leader. I have responsibilities.” But his frown deepened.
“Oh, I know what it is. I get it.”
He leaned up on his elbow, turning slightly to face her, anger flashing in his eyes. “What do you get?”
“I may not have dived into your mind, but I understand something about you. The Warriors of the Blood are a tight group, really tight, connected, and that’s not something you do. Ever.” She even punched her forefinger into his chest for emphasis.
He narrowed his gaze, a smile suddenly playing at his lips. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve connected pretty well with you.”
Since he shed his bitter chocolate scent, and her body responded, she leaned in and kissed him. Samuel had full, sensual lips and he knew how to work his tongue. For a few seconds, she even considered drawing him back down on top of her and encouraging him to take her again.
But she had a point she wanted to make, so she responded, “Then let me mind-dive with you.”
He snorted. “You want me to prove that I can connect by allowing you inside my head? No. And I’ve already told you why.”
“You mean those elusive streams of energy that haven’t yet made an appearance?”
“Are you saying you don’t believe I have them?”
A knock on the door had Samuel moving quickly, dragging the comforter up to her chin, making sure she was covered. “What is it, Merl?”
Their host opened the door slightly and called out, “Endelle wants to make sure we get some practice in on sealing up the grid wall. Given all that happened last night, we should get going on that.”
“Fine. Give us twenty.”
“Good deal.”
When Merl pulled the door shut, Samuel rolled out of bed. “I call the shower.”
“I’m not done discussing this.”
He just waved to her as he went into the bathroom and shut the door.
* * * * * * * * *
Showered, with a fresh change of clothes brought over from his Scottsdale Two home, Samuel sat next to Vela at the kitchen island, fork and knife in hand.
Merl, standing opposite, near the sink, kept going on and on about Thorne’s recent exploits, something he and Vela had missed since they’d been asleep through the morning.
Vela nodded to Merl. “So Thorne really tore the Illinois Two Seers Palace apart?”
“Yep. Found it abandoned, except for the Seers. He had several Militia Warriors practicing with the wrecker shotguns, which work even better outside the darkening. I hear it’ll be nothing but rubble soon.”
“Well thank the Creator for that. And what about the Seers?”
“Best part of the whole damn story. He sent fifty-five drugged out women to Fiona’s rehab center.”
“Fifty-five? That man is incredible.”
“Yeah, he is.”
Samuel groaned and snorted at the same time. He admired Thorne. Who the hell didn’t? But
what he fucking resented was Merl using the news of Thorne’s exploits to impress his woman.
He focused on the steak and eggs that Vela had prepared for them, and yes, the woman could cook. She’d brought food over from her house again and even made some kind of salsa with chunks of fruit in it, mango maybe.
Since it was already after five and heading toward sundown, Samuel wished he had a beer. Of course that wasn’t the best way to start a night when he had a new skill-set to learn, if he could even help with the sealing of grid walls.
He glanced at Vela, thinking about what she’d said earlier, about wanting to mind-dive, that maybe his real issue was one about connection.
While Merl and Vela chatted away, he cut another slice of steak, piled on the egg, and the salsa, and shoved it in his mouth. He stared at the light granite of the island and chewed slowly.
His life had always been pretty simple. His mother had died when he was very young and his father had been, clear up until the day of his death, a sonofabitch who drank too much.
Samuel had lived a man’s life, a harsh life. That’s all he’d ever known. Even the torture he’d endured had been part of living his warrior’s life. In many ways, that was his job. He was a Militia Warrior; warring, tough, and yes, maybe somewhat disconnected. He loved to fuck women, but he never let anyone in. Maybe he didn’t know how, but like hell he’d put Vela through the trauma of seeing what he’d been through by engaging in something like mind-diving.
He was also concerned for her physical safety. For the most part he had control of his dark power, but he still didn’t know what might cause an event like the one that had killed those innocent workers. And he didn’t want to find out, especially not when Vela shared his bed.
He glanced at her, his heart swelling at the sight of her lovely profile, her mass of hair pushed behind her shoulders, flowing in waves and curls, away from her plate. She was a beautiful woman, over two-hundred-years-old. Ascended life broke the bonds of Mortal Earth so that here he sat, falling in love with a woman over twice his age.
She wore jeans again, a great look for her long legs. Her peach-colored blouse, nipped in at the waist, had a row of buttons down the middle that he’d like to unbutton one at a time. He’d caught a glimpse of her low-cut sheer bra and had almost kept her in the bedroom with him for an additional twenty minutes.
With some effort, he’d restrained himself.
And if he kept looking and thinking about what was under her clothes, he’d be in trouble all over again.
He focused on his meal, and every once in a while, joined in the conversation but mostly Merl liked talking, so he talked.
When at last, their host rounded the island and called for plates, Samuel slid his in Merl’s direction, who performed dishwasher duty.
He glanced at each of them in turn. “You two ready to see if you can seal a darkening grid wall together?”
“Can’t wait.” Vela smiled broadly then turned toward Samuel.
He still thought he was right about her, that she’d gotten spooked after that terrifying death vampire attack so long ago, and had reined in her life way too far. Even seeing her present excitement proved his point.
“All right, where do you want to do this?” Samuel looked around the kitchen then at the window with a view of the sunlit forest on the opposite mountainside. “I’m thinking we should leave the Phoenix Metro area.”
“That was my thought,” Merl said.
Vela looked from one to the other. “Right. In case we end up summoning wreckers accidentally, they won’t land in Merl’s living room again.”
For the next hour, Merl took them to various places around Second Earth, opening the grid then trying to seal it up, and only letting the approach of wreckers end their efforts.
Bottom line, Vela didn’t always have enough power to seal the grid by herself. She could do it maybe fifty percent of the time and when Samuel tried to join her, they became oil and water and the effort failed.
Later, back at Merl’s house, Samuel paced the living room. “The problem is that I don’t have the darkening ability. I can’t even see the grid wall.”
“But you have Third Earth power,” Merl said. “And you have a connection to the darkening or you wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not so sure. I know I have a connection to Vela, but not necessarily to the darkening.”
For some reason those words made her smile and he gave her a smile right back. Damn he liked her. No, he loved her, as much as he was able, he loved her. He’d been inside her mind, and knew her better than most of his friends, and he valued all that he knew her to be. In this short time he’d been with her, he’d fallen in love, maybe for the first time in his fucked up life.
She came to him, and this time when he opened his arms he didn’t hold back, he just let his feelings flow.
This feels good, she sent.
Yeah, it does. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad the breh-hedden came to us.
I know. Me, too. She lifted her head to look up at him. I didn’t mean to pick at you earlier. I think you might be right about me and I wasn’t happy about that.
Me, too.
She nodded briskly, leaned up and kissed him. Could a man ask for more?
If Merl hadn’t been present, he would have returned the favor and made her feel that kiss to her toes.
As it was, Merl cleared his throat. “Can we get on with this?”
Vela drew back. “Yes, sorry Merl. Just working some stuff out.” She blinked several times and listed on her feet.
“What’s wrong?” Samuel caught her arm and balanced her.
“Someone’s in trouble. It feels just like the last time, when Duncan called for me. Samuel, I have to go. This is why I’m here.”
“Just wait a second. Let’s get some back-up.”
“Can you hear her? My God the woman’s screaming like she’s in pain.”
But Samuel’s instincts didn’t mesh right now with Vela’s. “This doesn’t feel right to me.”
“How would you know? You’ve already said this isn’t your gift.”
He almost suggested she do a quick mind-dive and see what it was his instincts were telling him, but he shut that thought down fast. “Fine. Let’s check it out.”
“I’ll move us along as fast as I can and when we reach her, hopefully we can bring her back with us.” She glanced at Merl. “Can you sit tight?”
Merl held his hands palms up. “Of course, but are you sure you don’t want to call in Leto at least?”
“Merl, if we’d arrived two minutes later, Duncan would have died. Period. When the darkening calls, I have to go.”
She held out her hand to Samuel and he took it, but added, “Let me get armed.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
He held out his free hand and drew his sword into his palm, a comfortable, solid, familiar weight, the identified grip like coming home. He’d battled a Third Earth wrecker not too many hours ago; he could do it again. If he thought about a squad of three, he shunted the image away.
He just wished he had one of those shotguns in hand, though he’d agreed with Thorne about getting them looked over before any of them attempted to fire one again in the darkening.
Besides, with Vela’s speed, he felt confident they could get into the darkening, take care of business, and get back before the wreckers arrived.
As before, Vela levitated them at astonishing speeds through tunnel after tunnel, but the farther they traveled from the entry point, the more sharply his warning bells rang in his head especially the moment they crossed through the dimension into Third.
Vela, something’s wrong. This place feels way too familiar. We need to get out of here.
I can’t leave. The woman’s screams are ringing in my head.
I can hear her, too, but I think it’s a trap.
We’re almost there.
One more tunnel and Vela stopped them just in front of a woman bound in familiar ropes, kne
eling on the stone floor of the darkening space.
The stone floor.
Same floor as Duncan’s prison cell.
A split-second later, five ascenders appeared in front of them and the woman fell silent, staring at up at them, a hard glint in her dark eyes.
Vela turned, not in shock, but in determination. She started to pull Samuel back through the darkening, but two squads of wrecking crews arrived, shotguns in hand, cutting off their escape.
Behind them, a very familiar Third ascender appeared, stroking his black goatee.
“Welcome back, Samuel. Did you enjoy your year of freedom?” He spread his hands wide, “It took some doing, some careful manipulation, but here you are.”
“You motherfucker,” Samuel shouted, raising his sword.
“But he took the butt of a shotgun to the back of his head, felt the added jolt of preternatural power, and flew face forward at his torturer’s feet.
The last thing he heard was Sharav saying, “Don’t touch the sword, you idiot; it’s identified.”
Chapter Eight
Vela stared down at Samuel, now laid out on the stone floor, unconscious. This couldn’t be happening.
“Look at all that blond hair,” the woman said. “Can’t be a warrior. Not this one. Way too girlie.”
Vela pivoted and watched the decoy rise to her feet, a very powerful looking woman who touched the numerous ropes and folded them away. Underneath, she wore flight battle gear. She planted her hands on her hips and offered a knowing smile.
A hand caught Vela’s arm and held her fast. She turned and stared at one of the wreckers. She didn’t even try to pull away from him; her body seemed frozen, incapable of movement.
Sharav lifted his wrist to his mouth and spoke softly. The next moment, an explosion sounded behind her, so loud that she gave a cry and tried to cover her ears, but the wrecker jerked her arm, forcing her to hold still.
He turned her to face the direction of the blast. A shotgun had just taken out the darkening wall, the smoky ash boiling past the breach, obscuring what lay beyond.
He yanked her through the breach, into a stone cell, on Third Earth proper, a very familiar cell. The air smelled funny, tainted, then she looked at the floor.
