by Caris Roane
Endelle’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “I know there’s a perverted oxymoron in there somewhere.”
“Bit of a stretch.” But Rachel smiled. “Yet somehow funny.”
Endelle folded a cup of coffee into her hand, but kept blocking the machine. “So what happened to you, Miss Queen of the Potatoes? I mean seriously. Luken told me you used a wrecking gun like a Third Earth pro your first time firing and you took out two of those warriors when you could have just hauled Duncan beneath your shield or even folded him straight away. Which is my next question; why didn’t you do either of these things?”
“I thought about it. And maybe I could have created a shield over Duncan, but I still have no idea whether the shield offers protection from anything physical or whether it just makes us both disappear. As for folding, I don’t know. I got mad, I guess, and I wanted to do something. So, I chose to face the wreckers instead.”
“Well, all of that makes sense and it shows a real warrior-type head in the field. So, I have to ask, why, if you have these obvious gifts coupled with so much inherent power, do you keep pursuing a zucchini-growing life? And I know you liked offing those wreckers, so don’t even pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Rachel drew a deep breath. “I won’t deny that the experience fired something up inside me. But since you’ve been honest with me about Thorne and the mind-links, I’ll return the favor.”
She drew another lung-invasive breath before continuing. “I’ve already told you that Grieg hit me, but I want you to get the full picture. The truth is, he beat the shit out of me off and on the first couple of years we were married, then almost every morning at dawn the entire last three months of our oh-so-joyful union. And I tried everything I could think of to either conform to what he wanted so he wouldn’t hit me – a strategy that had only marginal success – or to fight him. So, I guess you could say he beat the war out of me. He’s the biggest reason I’ve chosen my zucchini-potato life as you like to say.”
“But why didn’t you just leave Grieg?”
Rachel huffed a sigh. “Everyone asks that question of women caught in domestic abuse. We’re seen as weak and unable to stand up for ourselves. But getting trapped in abuse isn’t a quick process at all, but one of psychological seduction usually beginning with a wonderful courtship period. Then the man begins to undermine the woman’s self-esteem, just a little bit at first, but always escalating. Grieg liked to suggest I was stupid, clumsy, boring, anything to help me feel bad about myself on a steady, regular basis.
“From there, it’s maybe a slap at first, then tears and remorse. And begging. The man always begs to stay, to be forgiven, promising it will never happen again. And the woman forgives because she’s hooked in deep. At the worst point, when the beatings are regular, the man will threaten his woman’s life, especially if she makes the smallest move to leave him. By that time, she’s had enough evidence that he will do exactly what he says.
“By the time I escaped into a woman’s shelter, where I stayed for several years, I wanted nothing to do with Militia Warriors or preternatural power or anything. If Grieg and Carlyon were examples of how advanced we were as ascended vampires, then I decided I’d live a life more in keeping with Mortal earth.”
Endelle was frowning. “Well, I guess that explains a lot. I take it you were good at hiding the abuse.”
“I was. But let me ask you this, in all these thousands of years you’ve lived in our world, did you never fall into an abusive relationship? Not even once?”
“No. Never. But I’ve known enough abused women to understand it’s never simple. The honeymoon period does a real number on the woman’s mind.”
“It does,” Rachel said. “It makes you always want to believe the best of your man, even when he does the unthinkable.”
Rachel had examined her life and her mind a thousand times, trying to understand how she’d let the abuse happen. But Grieg had been such a sweetheart in the beginning and told her of his own really difficult childhood so that all her sympathies had been plucked. In the early courtship days, there had been a few signs that something wasn’t right, but nothing that she could ever look back on as a real red flag. Grieg had been loving and attentive.
The first slap, however, had taken place on their honeymoon. He’d wept afterwards and blamed his momentary never-to-be-repeated loss of control on his childhood issues, so of course she’d forgiven him.
And forgiven him.
And forgiven him.
There would be presents and begging after those early beatings, and lots of tears dripping down his cheeks. But after a time, when her mind had become bent by his abuse, the gifts and sobbing had stopped to be replaced by an unequalled cruelty and always the words: you make me do this to you.
It had taken years to extricate herself both psychologically and physically from what had grown into a life-threatening relationship. And a good decade to become free of the nightmares.
Endelle, still holding her coffee cup in her hand, turned around and retrieved the coffee pot, then topped off Rachel’s mug. After returning the pot to its place, she reached out and touched Rachel’s shoulder.
For a brief second, Rachel had thought Her Supremeness was offering comfort. Instead, and fully without warning, she folded Rachel back to her private quarters.
“Hey,” Rachel said, now standing beside the chair she’d sat in earlier. “You could’ve told me what you meant to do.”
“What the hell is the fun in that?”
Rachel rolled her eyes, then once more sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch. She had a clear view of Duncan’s face. His eyes were still open and he’d blink now and then, but otherwise remained immobile.
“There’s one more thing,” Rachel said. “Carlyon never allowed Duncan to see his mother from the time they divorced. Duncan was six and had wonderful memories of her. Then just like that, he never saw her again.”
“So, Duncan shared this with you?”
“Over the years, yes. In one of our on-again moments.”
“Well, shit.” Endelle sat down and sipped her coffee. “You want my opinion?”
Like Endelle would hold back if Rachel said ‘no’. “Sure. Why, not?”
“Duncan’s the real deal, you know, despite his father’s heinous influence. He’s one of those men you know will always be there. I trust him the way I’ve always trusted Thorne.”
“I know what you mean. He’d lay down his life for me. I know he would.” Her throat ached badly and she couldn’t quite see for the unexpected tears.
But she held them back then remembered something. “Hey, just so you know, Thorne’s here. I saw him in the Command Center.”
Something like hope entered Endelle’s eye. She stood up too quickly and sloshed her coffee on the carpet. But she set the mug down and without a word to Rachel, left the room.
~ ~ ~
Duncan watched Yolanthe snoring on her daybed, her leopard stretched out beside her. The woman almost looked harmless, sort of like a hibernating rattlesnake.
He had to think.
He had to find a way to break her mind-link.
He looked back over the period of time when he was pulled out of New River, then tortured in a cell on Third Earth.
Sharav’s excruciating regimen of carefully inflicted pain had served a purpose, something Duncan understood very well now. Sharav had been working the whole time to bring Duncan’s powers online, just as he had through Samuel’s torture.
The torture had worked and Duncan was now a Warrior of the Blood, something he felt in every bone of his body. He was leaving behind his service as a Thunder God Warrior and embracing an even more difficult path.
He also knew he was more than just a warrior now. But what that meant, what his path should be, he didn’t know, at least not yet.
Because of what Yolanthe had told him, he knew his power would evolve to a point that he would be able to find a mythical place called Rapture's Edge. And with
this awareness, Duncan finally began the process of taking a different view of his current captive state.
Rather than hunt for a way out, something he’d done accidentally the last time, he sank deep into his ascended vampire nature, into all that he was as a long-lived man.
He’d never explored within. His physical life as a warrior always had an external purpose: wielding a sword, battling death vampires, supporting his brothers-in-arms, making war every night of his life.
He sank deeper and deeper until he came to the core of his being, the same place Yolanthe had taken him, only without pain this time.
And there, once more, he found Yolanthe’s link, a throbbing amber pulse.
He also knew in his gut that he could destroy the link and free himself. But just as he readied, he paused. If he could break the link when he chose, maybe he could make use of it as well.
Yolanthe was the key to Endelle’s vision. What if the link could be used to his advantage?
Having control of the situation made Duncan relax. Only what now? Should he end the current trance or continue as he was?
And just as he was about to disturb the link enough so that he could wake up and talk things over with Luken and maybe even Endelle, a vision was on him.
A battle at the palace.
~ ~ ~
Endelle felt better. She’d talked to Thorne for fifteen minutes and the exchange had done her a boatload of good. She’d never felt amorous toward Thorne, though her relationship with him had been long and complex. But when he’d broken the mind-link, something inside her had ached beyond expression and to a lesser degree, now that time had passed, still did.
But Thorne was a powerful, commanding man and maybe because of that, the burden of her rule always felt a little bit lighter after being with him.
Returning to her suite and glancing down at Duncan, however, the feel-good of the moment ended abruptly. Duncan hadn’t moved exactly, but something rolled off him, making her tense up and every instinct she had start screaming.
“Has he shifted position at all?” she asked Rachel.
“No, not a bit, but something has changed.”
“You can feel it, too?”
“Yes,” Rachel said, rising to her feet. “Like maybe he’s breaking free of the trance again.”
At the same moment, she heard Luken’s voice as he called to Thorne. Luken was back and Thorne was still here. Thank the Creator for that; she felt better knowing that both men were in the palace.
Her heart now beat furiously in her chest.
Something fucked up was going on.
She moved into the Command Center and saw that Luken had brought three men with them, still in their battle uniforms.
She knew each of them because they belonged to Duncan’s squad. She crossed quickly to join them, but when Luken started to introduce the men, she cut him off. “Never mind that. Duncan’s still in a trance but I can tell something’s headed our way since every nerve in my body is shouting at me.”
Luken glanced past her shoulder. “Where’s Duncan now?”
“On my couch.” She waved at Thorne, calling to him, “You’d better get your ass over here.”
Thorne set his clipboard down and headed straight for her. When he arrived, he crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, but I think it has to do with the Third Earth grid.”
Luken frowned. “Where the hell is Merl?”
“Taking a nap on my bed.”
“Well you’d better tell ‘the princess’ he should get his ass out here.”
“I’m here.” Merl headed in their direction, his chin down as he moved, his gaze shifting from side-to-side. To everyone’s surprise, he wore a uniform, similar to the What-Bees, black leather kilt and all. Very much a warrior. “What’s going on, because there’s a vibe in the palace that has my Third Earth nerves worked into a frenzy.”
Endelle shook her head. “We’re not sure.”
Merl nodded. “I think you’d be wise to get some wrecking guns over here on the double. This feels like the grid to me, like the palace has been targeted. Not sure I can say why, it just does.”
“I’m on it,” Luken said. “Merl, while I’m gone, get these men up to speed.” He gestured quickly to each. “Owen, Alex, Joshua. I’ll be right back.” He spoke into his shoulder com as he moved, shouting orders to the warriors on duty at Militia HQ.
Thorne said, “Endelle, do you have reason to expect an attack here?”
Endelle felt a terrible pressure on her chest. “I don’t know, probably. Like I told you a few minutes ago, Yolanthe is after Rachel and Rachel is in my sitting room. So, how about you move your personnel out of here and take as much of this equipment with you as you can. Those guns will destroy everything.”
Thorne turned and started shouting orders for everyone to get to Apache Junction Two and to take the hard drives with them. Within seconds, the dozen or so computer towers were being loaded onto a cart and wheeled in the direction of the landing platforms. Each member of the Command Center team tucked a laptop under his or her arm and hurried toward the platforms as well.
Endelle addressed Thorne. “I take it you’ve run drills with your techs.”
“Damn straight I have.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Death’s shadow
Brings wisdom.
Collected Proverbs – Beatrice of Fourth
The vision of an imminent attack on the palace had Duncan tense as hell. He was still deep inside his vampire nature, and Yolanthe’s amber link continued to glow.
With the woman still asleep nearby, he mentally touched the link. He could feel the nature of it and how much the connective power felt like Yolanthe, a combination of self-control and narcissism.
He slowly began to feed his power into the link and with each subtle increase he began to rise to consciousness. He didn’t want to wake the beast; he just needed to slip out of his trance.
The next moment, he blinked several times and saw the ceiling of Endelle’s private suite.
“Duncan?” Rachel’s voice.
He slowly sat up as his mind cleared.
Rachel was sitting in a chair at the end of the couch, her eyes wide as she met his gaze.
“You’re back,” she said. She rose from her chair.
“I am.” But because of the vision, he had to act quickly. “I already know we’re in trouble here. Tell me what’s happening.”
She gestured to the Command Center. “Luken is here with your squad. Merl’s in uniform, helping out as well. Thorne, too. Endelle put them all on alert.”
“Oh, thank God. What about weapons?”
“I don’t know. I still have the guns from the wreckers who showed up in your bedroom.”
“What do you mean?”
Rachel gave her head a shake. “I’ll tell you later.” She pulled the two guns from behind her chair and tossed one to him.
“Ammo?”
He watched her extend her hand and a moment later a box of at least a dozen shells appeared.
Taking the box from her, he set it on the table, loaded his weapon, and slid several shells into the pockets of his kilt.
Rachel had nowhere to store hers, but she placed two cartridges in her gun. “Don’t worry. I can fold additional shells into my hand so I’ll leave the box on the coffee table.”
He nodded, and was about to head into the adjoining room when the initial vision once more flitted through his head. There would be so much gunfire. “Rachel, I don’t want you in there. This battle’s going to be messy.”
Rachel’s lips parted but no words came. Instead, she pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m supposed to be there, with you. I can feel it. I think … I think we need to be in a shielded position.”
He thought for a minute, reflecting on what he’d seen in the vision. “That’s right. We are.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had a vision. In fact, you should shield me rig
ht now.”
Rachel drew close. “This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”
“Very bad.”
He watched Rachel take a deep breath. But with her wrecker gun in hand and without touching him, she began to form the shield. He could feel her power flow in his direction.
Probably because of the breh-hedden, desire for her rose in a swift stream as well. He leaned close and slid his arm beneath hers, grateful he was with her. Once he made contact, however, power erupted between them.
“Can you feel that?” she asked, turning slightly to meet his gaze.
“Yes. This is incomprehensible, the breh-hedden.”
“I know.”
He squeezed her arm. “And I didn’t do well after we made love and I’m sorry. It’s the old shit. I didn’t mean to be so cold.”
“And I know that as well.”
Luken appeared in the doorway, but called back over his shoulder. “They’re not in here. Or maybe Rachel’s shielding Duncan.”
Endelle’s voice rang out. “Don’t worry about them, just get your ass over here. Now. I hear rumbling.”
Luken whipped around and headed back into the Command Center.
Duncan took Rachel’s arm and followed after Luken. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know. Please, don’t worry.”
“Too late for that.” He tried to suppress the feeling that the vision hadn’t told him everything, but couldn’t.
Once they reached the Command Center, Duncan expected Endelle to say something. Instead she met his gaze and nodded to him, a wrecker gun in hand. Clearly, she had nothing on her mind right now except preparing for battle. This wasn’t Endelle’s first engagement, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be her last.
The warriors that remained in the now otherwise empty rotunda were lined up in two arcs facing the large, open air balcony. Each arc was slanted off to the side of the opening. The arrangement appeared the same as it had in the vision and that helped Duncan to breathe a little easier.
A familiar rumbling sounded through the room along with a distant muffled explosion.
The wreckers were close.
Merl, no doubt leaning on past experience, counted down. “Five … four … three … two … one.”