by Caris Roane
“My apologies. Again.” Vela had never been around Endelle very much and Havily had warned her, but the angle wasn’t helping because Vela could see the lower rounded portions of her Supremeness’s large bare breasts.
Yet somehow that helped, the absurdity of how Endelle dressed.
Endelle grunted, levitating back to the white shag carpet.
“I’ve joined the ranks, Madame Endelle, and I’ll do what I can to help. But I don’t know what to do. I can get Samuel to Duncan, but there’s a limitation. We can’t exit through the darkening at that point, as you know, in order to pull him out.”
“Fuck. You’re right.” She glanced at Thorne and Seriffe. To the latter, she said, “Did you know Samuel has some kind of Third-based power?”
“No. I didn’t.” The leader of the Militia Warriors scowled as he set his strong gaze on Samuel. “You’ve been holding back?”
“For only one reason. Part of the power I have can’t be controlled, at least not yet. I killed several innocent men with it when I escaped.”
Jean-Pierre shared his experience working out with Samuel.
Thorne’s lips twitched. “You’re telling me a mere Militia Warrior kept knocking you on your ass, J.P.?”
“Oui. And I would complain but I believe he must become a Warrior of the Blood soon, perhaps the first we have had since my own induction.”
Samuel spoke quickly. “Just to be clear, I have no intention of leaving the Thunder God Warriors.”
Jean-Pierre laughed. “We have all heard that from Gideon for over a year. I suppose I am not surprised.”
Vela glanced around the group of powerful ascenders, wondering what she was even doing here. How upside down was her world that a former purchase-order-processor sat in Endelle’s private suite?
“Okay, assholes,” Endelle said. “Let’s get back to work.” She flipped some of the small, spiral shells which in turn exposed a nipple.
All the men looked elsewhere.
Endelle rolled her eyes but addressed Vela. “Take Samuel back to Duncan and see what happens. None of us have this kind of experience with the darkening. In fact, I want to be part of this. So, let’s do this from my office. You can head on over now. I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.”
Vela rose from the couch but before she even reached the door Samuel had hold of her hand. Once past the doorway, he switched sides so that by the time they’d returned to the large rotunda that housed the command center, he formed a barrier between her and the men who worked there.
What’s that about? She asked.
Those men were gawking at you.
No they weren’t. She’d noticed a couple of surreptitious looks but nothing close to staring at her with mouths wide open.
You don’t want to argue with me about something like this, not right now. You can yell at me later, if you want. But this damn breh-hedden is like fire on my skin. I’m caught between wanting to punch every man who even looks at you to getting you somewhere private and tearing your clothes off. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.
As Vela walked, heading back to the platform, she didn’t at first recognize the sensation that moved through her, like little streaks of lightning. His rich scent had thickened the air near her so that desire once more, always ready to take her over, stroked her breasts and the sweet spot between her legs. I don’t mind, she sent in return. And she didn’t. In fact, should they survive this next trip into the darkening, she might even suggest they do a little mutual exploration and see what happened, maybe even tap into a vein or two.
Her mouth watered suddenly. She hadn’t shared blood in a long time and the thought of bringing Samuel into her body in that way, maybe while they were doing other things, caused her to shiver.
As she walked up the ramp, he sent, You have the most wonderful floral scent, which you are shedding in waves right now, and you’ve got me worked up.
Standing beside him on the platform, she turned and met his gaze. Good, she sent. A split-second later, she folded beside him, flying through nether-space, but not before she saw his mouth drop.
* * * * * * * * *
Samuel arrived on the landing platform at Administrative HQ in a state of pain, and a level of gratitude for snug briefs and a battle kilt, he’d never quite appreciated before.
Vela’s eyes held a promise, one he understood really well because he knew that signal. Only this time, the breh-hedden had him in its cross-hairs and he was a target ready to hit. Her scent rose in clouds around her.
He slid his arm tight around her waist and walked her down the administrative HQ ramp, newly installed on the bottom floor of the building.
Once inside the elevator, he drew her into his arms and kissed her, plundering her mouth like he’d never known a woman’s mouth before. That she glided her hips back and forth so that her abdomen stroked his erection told him all that he needed to know about what she wanted from him.
He slung an arm around her neck, put a hand on her face and forced her to look at him. But he didn’t say anything, he just met those large blue eyes and willed her to know him, to know what she was getting into. Her lips parted, her breath quickened.
“I’m not who you think I am. The man I could have been disappeared during those years I was gone. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “I think I feel the same way. I’ve been lost since my husband died. I haven’t been the same, either.”
He nodded, then kissed her again, backing her into a corner, pressing his body up against hers. Time lost its meaning as he arched his hips into hers, pumping like he would once he got inside her.
The doors opened, maybe for the tenth time, he wasn’t sure, but a woman’s voice, a blunt, crude voice, called into the elevator. “Somebody get me a goddamn hose.”
Endelle had arrived already? Shit, how long had he kept Vela inside?
Samuel pulled away. If he’d been in pain before, right now he felt like someone held his balls in a vise. He was so close to release that his abdomen spasmed.
Vela clung to the upper sides of his weapons harness, breathing hard.
“You’re wasting precious time,” Endelle said. “You know that, right?”
“Keep your panties on,” Samuel snapped. “We’re coming.” Jesus, was he really talking to the Supreme High Administrator like that? The ruler of Second Earth?
He turned around to apologize, but Endelle only laughed. “Come on, warrior. Let’s get this next job done. With what you went through in Honduras Two, the least you deserve is a beautiful blond getting your rocks off.” She waved an arm toward the ceiling of the elevator. “And just so you know, security has been enjoying the show.”
“Aw, shit.” He glanced up at the camera and knew a bunch of ascenders were smiling back at him. He didn’t care about himself so much, but it bothered him that Vela was exposed like this. So, he glared at the red blinking light and said, “If I find one hint that you’ve been spreading this around Second Earth, I’ll hunt the last of you down and beat you as close to death as I can get, are we clear?”
A voice came over the speaker. “Erasing the CD now.”
“Then we have an understanding.”
“Yes, Warrior Samuel.”
Damn, they even knew his name.
He put his arm around Vela’s shoulder and led her into the hall in the direction of Endelle’s office.
Once inside, he took in the zebra skin rugs, the antique tusks that supported the unpolished marble desk, a fireplace to the left that looked as though it was never used and the full wall of windows that offered a magnificent view of miles and miles of the eastern desert. He loved this land, the dry air, the forever blue skies, the prickly nature of the inhabitants, human and otherwise. Desert living wasn’t for the weak.
He glanced at Vela. Neither was taking on a vast power like Third Earth darkening abilities capable of moving through dimensions. His woman, yes his woman, stood facing Endelle’s desk, her shoulders squared and ready.
&nbs
p; He understood something about Vela right then, that she would go the distance. He knew many Militia Warriors like this, good men and women who he would trust with his life. Most of them would go on to become Section Leaders and they always set the best example for the troops.
“What do you suggest, Madame Endelle?”
But the leader of Second Earth just shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. I don’t do the darkening the way you described. You’ve got Third Earth chops. I don’t. This is your show, Vela. Though the one thing I can tell you is to go with your gut. The rest will follow.”
Vela turned toward Samuel. “I have no idea what we’re going to find, but I think you should have your sword with you.”
Samuel glanced at Endelle, lifting his brows. “Can I do that here? Fold my sword to me?”
“Do it. We don’t have the same security restrictions as either Apache Junction Two HQ or the palace. Thorne’s been after me about it, but for now he can just bite me.”
Samuel withheld a smile. Thorne was revered among the Militia Warriors, a man’s man, and destined apparently to replace Endelle. So to hear her say something like that about Thorne, perhaps more than anything else that had happened, made him know his life really had changed.
He thought the thought and folded his identified sword into his right hand, the blade held away from Vela. He moved to position himself on her right side.
“You ready to go for a ride, warrior?” she asked.
He knew what she meant, but their recent engagement in the elevator made him think of other things. He repressed his thoughts if not the squeeze he gave her waist or the smile that moved his lips inappropriately.
But her lips quirked as well, which made him wonder if the breh-hedden might have chosen wisely for him after all.
She shifted her gaze away from him. He watched her concentrate on what couldn’t be seen, probably searching for Duncan.
He tightened his hold on her waist and suddenly they were moving fast through the dark tunnel matrix she’d described, flying down one tunnel, reaching a branch, choosing with deliberate ease the next tunnel, then flying some more.
He saw the same things she’d described earlier as images raced past him. Once he’d become accustomed to the movement, he tried to see what made up the images that flashed by.
Eventually he saw landscapes and cities, a lot of smoke, ruins, people in rags, some warriors in flight battle gear, people running and large whirlwinds of light which turned out to be weapons of heavy capacity and destruction. He watched people being blown to bits, heard others scream, saw warriors flying and bearing swords. Then more landscape, a beautiful peaceful earth, then even greater turmoil.
His heart sank as Vela continued to move him through the darkening. Third Earth, too, was a world at war and somehow, one of the culprits had gotten hold of Duncan, but to what purpose? And why execute him?
Vela began to slow and his sword hummed in his hand.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He looked around carefully.
“Do you hear that sound?”
He listened hard. And there it was. “Like a very distant explosion.”
“Yes. The last time, I barely made it out alive. They’re coming for us and they’re coming from the direction of Duncan’s tunnel. I think they must know we’re here.”
When another explosion sounded, closer still, that was all Samuel needed to know. “Get us out of here, Vela. There’s no point in moving forward if they’ve got a fix on us and it seems they do.”
He turned her in a one-eighty, keeping his sword well away from her. Then her voice was in his head. Samuel, the return route has changed, but I don’t know why. I don’t know if we’re being directed that way, and it’s an ambush, or what?
Remember what Endelle said, go with your gut.
Then I have to change course.
Do it. I’ve been a warrior a long time. Going with your instincts will get you where you need to go, every damn time. You’re connected to this power, so follow its lead.
But even as he said this to her, mind-to-mind, an explosion sounded behind them, much closer this time.
She flowed faster than before, taking tunnel after tunnel. He could feel the dimensional crossing, like a bump in the road, but still they were pursued as another explosion sounded.
Closer.
She reached the end of a tunnel. A dead end. I don’t know what to do?
What do you see? All he saw was darkness, like a wall of infinite black.
I doorway with a kind of gold seal around it.
Another explosion. Try knocking.
An explosion sounded so close his ears rang.
Fuck that. Samuel, use your sword.
He didn’t pause to ask questions. He summoned his dark power and as his smoky mist swirled around him, he sliced at the wall with his blade and what do you know, an opening peeled back.
A man in long black terry robe, a cigarette in one hand and martini glass in the other, stared back at him and muttered. “Oh, shit!”
Samuel stepped through the opening, dragging Vela with him, turned and faced the breach but he saw nothing just the wall.
But he heard another explosion.
“Fuck.” Their host said. “The wreckers followed you.”
Samuel turned back to face the robed stranger. “What do we do?”
He rolled his eyes, settled his cigarette carefully on an ashtray, placed his martini glass on the coffee table then went to the wall.
Samuel pulled Vela close as another not-so-distant explosion rocked the space.
“I could use some help here,” the stranger called out.
Vela went to the wall, and placed her hands on it alongside the man.
“Shit, this isn’t working,” the man shouted.
Samuel’s instincts kicked in and he went to the stranger. He placed his hand on the man’s back and his own power flowed. A kind of zing went through him, into the stranger, and the power amplified about a hundred fold.
Then everything went black.
Sometime later he woke up on his back.
“He’s awake now,” Vela said.
He shifted his head slightly. Vela had hold of his hand, her knees curled next to him. Her long, unruly hair, full of waves and curls, hung beside her face, an almost angelic look. He squeezed her hand.
“You okay?” she asked.
He glanced around. He was on the floor, in the same room, the stranger’s living room. “What happened?”
“You amplified Merl’s power and he sealed the tunnel back up. Looks like we opened up an exit point that had been closed for about five decades.”
He glanced at her other hand. She held a martini glass. “You’re drinking?”
“Seemed like a good idea. Greygoose dirty. Very nice. And we were very lucky Merl was here.”
She’d called him by name twice.
He didn’t like that. At all.
He sat up, his head spinning. Shit, where was his identified sword. Only he could touch the grip or the hilt. Jesus. “Where’s my sword?”
Merl said. “It’s humming over there.” He gestured behind him.
Samuel widened his eyes. His sword was stuck about ten inches into the wall, on the opposite side of the large room, at least thirty feet away from where he now sat. There were many issues to address right now like how much he didn’t like his new host since he could sense his male-hunting stench, but he needed to take care of his weapon first.
As he rose to his feet, he said, “I take it we’ve reached some kind of safe haven here on Second and you must be from Third.”
“Guilty.”
Had Merl actually said that?
Samuel crossed in front of him, catching his gaze and holding it hard, as he passed by.
The man held up both hands in surrender, a new cigarette in one hand and a half full martini in the other.
Samuel pulled his sword from the wall, the familiar feel of the grip a comfort in what had become an increasing
ly bizarre situation. “We’re on Second?”
Merl nodded and took a slow drag on his cigarette, squinting, savoring. “Yeah, you can fold it anywhere you want. I don’t have shields up. Haven’t needed them. Of course your arrival, as well as Vela’s,” he offered her a smile as he sipped his martini, then finished his thought. “Anyway, your arrival will force me to rethink my strategy.”
He’d called Vela by name and smiled at her.
Good ol’ Merl was starting to piss him off.
Samuel thought-the-thought and got rid of his sword. He returned to Vela, and as he passed by Merl again, he made eye-contact and let him feel just what he thought about this Third ascender, with a power similar to his own.
Merl’s lips quirked as he once more raised his martini glass and his cigarette in surrender. What a prick.
When Samuel reached Vela, she sent, What’s the matter? You’re all pissy and from what I can tell, Merl just saved our lives.
I had something to do with that.
Her expression softened. Yeah, you did and it cost you.
“Okay, you two. Enough with the telepathic chit-chat. It’s kinda rude.” The last word came out with a stretched ‘u’ sound. This man was one piece-of-work.
The weird thing was, Merl was warrior-sized and matched Samuel pound-for-pound. He wore black silk bottoms, but the terry robe, open to the waist, exposed muscled pecs.
Samuel slipped his arm around Vela. “Who are you?” he asked, not trusting much about this stranger.
“Merl Tuttle, escapee from Third Earth, former warrior, including stretches inside the darkening grid. Got sick of the chaos on Third and found a way to get out. Question is, how did you find me? I haven’t had visitors from Third since I got here.”
“We’re not from Third,” he said.
“Why, Vela, you didn’t tell me that.”
He’d caressed her name. Hell, he’d poured oil over every single one of those words, the bastard, and now a lovely red hue covered Samuel’s vision as his dark power rose in a sudden smoky stream.
He launched at Merl before he had time to think or before he could respond to Vela calling out, “Don’t, Samuel. He’s a friend!”
