by Caris Roane
He caught it easily, but stared at it. With a change of configuration the grip had to feel different to him. Regardless, he shifted his attention back to her, lowered his chin, and once more blurred in her direction, fast. “Then die,” he shouted. Behind him, the Commander’s army raged. Almost as one they screamed at him, urging him to continue the fight, to take Alison’s life.
She cast a new shield, this time around herself. He struck but could not penetrate. He struck a dozen times, twenty, thirty, but to no effect.
She waited.
Continuous applause resounded from all over the arena.
Finally, Leto was breathing hard. Sweat dripped down his body. “My God. Who are you?” he asked again. He leaned over at the waist to catch his breath.
After a long tense moment, in which both armies fell silent, he finally dropped to one knee in front of her and laid his sword at her feet.
“I concede,” he stated in a loud clear voice.
Silence fell on every spectator present.
She released her shield.
He stood up, his complexion pale, his gaze for one split second full of agony. She reached out with her empathy and read him. Dammit, he wanted out. Of course he wanted out. Just like the Warriors of the Blood, his role had taken its toll. He was on the razor’s edge of disintegration, his vulnerable position at risk of discovery.
She approved of this warrior. He had honor and character and he had lived a double life for eight decades, serving as a spy. A spy! But for whom? She had seen the name James deep within Leto’s head but not Endelle’s, which meant that Endelle knew nothing about his activities, of that she was sure. Worse, when Leto defected, Darian had forced him to take dying blood as proof of his loyalty. At the same time, he was given an antidote to nullify the effects. Leto did not have the paling, beautifying, and faint bluing of the skin that most death vampires exhibited. No one would ever know he was, essentially, a death vampire. But all these years, he’d had to continue taking both the tainted blood and the antidote to sustain his mission. What a horrible mess.
Darian, her Darian, had forced him down this path. Either he took the dying blood or he would be killed. There had been no choice.
He bowed once to her, turned on his heel, brought his sword into his hand, then headed back in the direction of his lockers. She tested her internal mental shields. Could she keep Leto’s secret from Endelle, from the Commander, from Kerrick?
She wondered just how deep this hole could get.
The crowds had already begun to disperse except for the attendant armies and administrative corps. Apparently, the entertainment was over.
The Warriors of the Blood stood in sober array in front of thousands of Militia Warriors. Her decision pleased no one.
To Kerrick, she sent, I couldn’t do it.
I know. A pause followed. I treasure your heart more than anything else in the world.
Her eyes filled with tears as she blew him a kiss.
She could not, however, look in Madame Endelle’s direction. She suspected the Supreme High Administrator of Second Earth would have a few choice words for her as soon as the cameras disappeared.
Birth,
A place of beginning, of seizing, of weeping.
Treasure the moment
Recline in bliss.
—Collected Poems, Beatrice of Fourth
CHAPTER 19
Crace could do little more than stare at General Leto’s retreating back as the warrior disappeared into the archway leading to the underground rooms of the arena. He couldn’t even blink. The fucking vampire had failed.
He shook his head over and over.
“My darling?” Julianna whispered.
He glanced at his wife, who winced. “He should have won,” Crace said. “He should have beat her, killed her.”
“Darling, please?”
Please, what? What the hell was she begging for now? Didn’t she understand the magnitude of what had just happened? Couldn’t she see that the dream of a seat at the Geneva Round Table was fading, turning to a brilliant shade of dirt brown?
“My darling, please?” The latter word was spoken aloud and in his mind at the same time, which caused a burst of pain to explode inside his skull.
“What?” he shouted.
“My hand,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You’re crushing my hand.”
He looked down and realized he was close to cracking several bones. He released her at once but he couldn’t even apologize. He couldn’t speak. He watched tears fall onto the swell of her breasts as she held her hand in her lap.
* * *
As the cameras shut down, as Alison’s face disappeared from the now blank arena screens, as the spectators began to stream through the exit tunnels, Kerrick stared at Alison and marveled. One question surfaced above every other thought—could he have a life with this woman whose powers exceeded even Second abilities? Would she be able to stay alive on Second when Helena could not? Would she be able to cast her shields and keep a thousand death vampires from slaughtering her? Could he have a fucking life with her?
His heart thundered in his chest at the possibility. A woman in his life, permanent, bonded, treasured. Did Alison’s arrival on Second Earth actually mean a change for him, a different life, that which he had vowed never to have again so long as he made war?
Moving at lightning speed, he reached the hall leading to the arena floor. Another dash and he breached the tall arched opening to the arena. He rushed toward the black mats, his gaze centered on Alison’s blond ponytail. Just as she turned in his direction, as though sensing his presence, he was on her. He caught her in his arms and spun her around and around, her feet dangling off the floor. He kissed her hard. You were magnificent.
“It’s over,” she whispered, her arms wrapped around his neck.
“You were brilliant.”
He kissed her again. He stroked her damp hair. He held her tight against him.
She drew back and smoothed her hand over his cheek. “We’re okay … you and me?”
He nodded.
“Maybe we have a chance?” she asked.
His heart melted, a big puddle in his chest. “We just might.”
He planted his lips once more against hers and penetrated her mouth with his tongue. She took him willingly and suckled. He arched over her and deepened the kiss, settling her booted feet back on the mats. She moaned softly.
“Okay, you two, knock it off,” Endelle cried, joining them.
He released her but didn’t let her get far as he slung an arm around her waist, drawing her flush against his side.
Havily crossed the black mats as well and addressed Alison. “Congratulations. You were absolutely amazing. That was beautifully done—and to think you had several Third Earth abilities, though I shouldn’t be surprised. Imagine, a reversal of time. I had heard of it but I’ve never seen it done. And the wave of resulting power! It passed through me like a cool breeze. Exhilarating.”
Alison broke free of Kerrick’s clasp and embraced the Liaison Officer. “Thank you for being with me tonight, Havily. You are my first friend on Second and I will always be grateful for your help and support.”
“It was my pleasure. If you need anything, you have only to ask. And now”—here she glanced at Madame Endelle—“I have a new military-admin mock-up to re-create, something I do in my spare time, something that would help someone to defeat the Commander if only that someone would spare me a few minutes of her time.”
Endelle offered a snort in response and a roll of her eyes. Havily in turn bowed to her, shifted to face Kerrick, smiled at him, pinched his cheek, lifted her arm, then vanished.
Kerrick moved in and once more took possession of his woman. She melded to his side, this time sliding her arm around his waist. He held her close since directly across, the Commander waited with his army. Alison’s ascension was by no means complete, which meant she was still fair game. When Darian fixed his gaze on her, a growl erup
ted from Kerrick’s throat.
A moment later the Commander levitated from his black regal chair and floated, without wings or any other visible means of support, across the black matting. Bastard.
Never once, however, did he shift his gaze away from Alison. She was his object, his mark, his reason for the arena contest, his goal in now crossing the battling mats. He paused four feet in front of her, his large brown eyes fixed to her, unblinking, searching. He floated down to settle his Italian footwear on the mats.
Kerrick touched Alison’s mind and found her erecting shield after shield against the Commander’s deft probes. Kerrick couldn’t control yet another growl or the thrumming of his wing-locks.
A slight blink indicated that Greaves may have sensed the threat that Kerrick was ready to mount his wings in defense of Alison.
Endelle broke the tension. “Well,” she said, her tone lustrous with sarcasm, “look what the goddamn cat dragged in.”
Kerrick wanted to hustle Alison behind him. He wanted her safe and away from the Commander even though he didn’t sense an attack coming. After all, Greaves could hardly act against Alison in this setting. As much as COPASS tended to defer to him, the Committee wouldn’t be able to ignore a direct assault. Neither Greaves nor Endelle was permitted to attack anyone directly and there were some rules even Greaves had to obey, at least when he was in the open. Like now.
* * *
Alison had not been so close to Darian since she stood beside him at the railing of the medical complex staring down at her first very pale, very beautiful death vampire. But here he was, in the flesh, one of the most powerful beings on Second Earth, her former client. He had sent Leto to the downtown Borderland in pursuit of her. He had sent a regiment to Carefree. He had arranged the arena battle just for her, all with one intention.
Yet she had counseled him. She had heard his story. She knew him, at least to the extent anyone could know a man without a conscience, a sociopath. She knew the pain he had suffered as a child, the cause of his mental disorder.
Still. He had intended for her to die.
He held her gaze, his large child-like eyes beckoning. “You surprised me tonight, my dear. Imagine, a reversal of time and sword re-identification and the final shield. So much power. I know of only two beings on Second who can do these three things, and we’re both right here. Was that how you repaired the window in your office? Of course it was.”
She heard Kerrick hiss softly, and another split-resonant growl rumbled through the air. Her vampire-warrior-guardian was in full protective mode.
The Commander’s gaze drifted to Kerrick. “Easy, boy. I’m offering compliments. Your woman did quite well.”
“No shit.” The words shot past Alison’s ear. Kerrick’s body was on fire, a shield of raging heat against her side. She felt his warrior fury rising but for some reason it eased her and she leaned her head against his shoulder. They were together. They were a team, like Joy and Ryan. She sighed. Yes, like her sister and her brother-in-law.
The Commander shifted his gaze back to her. “I learned so very much while watching you battle General Leto. Overall, I consider the evening a very instructive experience.”
So that was it. That was the game. Darian, the Commander, was a man of strategy, so of course he had more than one purpose in the spectacle battle. If she didn’t die, then he would learn more about her strengths and her weaknesses. She was his enemy now.
“I can see I am disturbing what should be an evening of celebration so I will bid you good night. I wish you every happiness, my dear. And do take care.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond but turned in the direction of his army. He lifted an arm and in the blink of an eye, he and the great mass of his contingency simply vanished.
Alison stared dumbstruck at all the empty seats, the vacant dais, the solitary ornate chair from which he had observed the battle.
“Holy shit,” Kerrick muttered. “He sent his entire army away with one thought.”
“How did he do that?” Alison whispered. She couldn’t imagine the level of power required to perform such a feat.
“Poser,” Endelle muttered.
Alison glanced up at her and laughed outright. “Poser?”
Endelle rolled her eyes. “A fucking parlor trick. Don’t let him get to you.” She huffed a sigh, turned slightly to her right, then nodded in the direction of the stands, dismissing her army. In contrast with the Commander’s army, Endelle’s contingency simply started heading to the various exits.
She turned back to Alison. “You, on the other hand, ascendiate Wells, are goddamn useless. All you had to do was finish Leto off. You had him in the palm of your hand and you let him go. What the fuck were you thinking and by the way, what was that little private party you had with him and don’t tell me you didn’t do anything of the sort, because I know you did. Did you do a little mind-diving with Leto?”
Alison felt Kerrick’s body stiffen against her. “Alison,” Kerrick’s deep voice rumbled against her ear. “What the hell is Endelle talking about?”
She pulled away from him, far enough to meet his emerald gaze. His eyes flashed with warning. “I can’t tell you.”
“What?” he cried, his brow sinking low. Another growl erupted from his throat, this time directed at her. “Don’t tell me you went inside that traitor’s head. Tell me you fucking didn’t!”
“Back off, Fido,” Endelle said. “So she was in his head. Big-fucking-deal. It’s not like she had her legs wrapped around his waist.” She shifted her attention back to Alison. “I just want to know what the hell you talked about. The fact you set up a shield even I couldn’t penetrate tells me you weren’t discussing the weather.”
Alison glanced from one daunting ascender to the other. Each was bent toward her in outright aggression. For a split second she wondered if battling Leto would be the easy part of the night.
She drew in a deep breath and decided to deal with the larger of the two problems first. She stared into Endelle’s striated brown eyes. She chose carefully the words she sent. Though I can’t relay everything I saw, I can tell you Leto wants out.
A little late for that.
Alison shook her head very slowly.
What are you not telling me? She narrowed her eyes and tried to break through Alison’s shields, a pressure that got harder and harder to withstand.
Alison lifted a hand. “Don’t press against my shields,” she cried.
“I’ll do what I want.”
“If you’re wise, you won’t.”
Endelle cocked her head. “What the hell is going on, ascendiate?”
This time Alison set up a shield that encompassed Endelle. Alison communicated telepathically, Leto requests that I do not share with anyone, including you, what he shared with me, except for one piece of information. He wants you to contact an ascender by the name of James, resident of Sixth Earth and gatekeeper of Third.
How the hell am I supposed to contact Third or Sixth? Endelle sent. I haven’t had one fucking whisper from the Upper Dimensions in millennia, not since the time I agreed to serve as Supreme High Administrator nine thousand years ago.
These words slammed through Alison’s head, a powerful sensation caused equally by Endelle’s astonishment and her frustration. You’ve been flying blind, she sent. All these years?
Endelle stared at her. After a long moment, she sighed heavily then nodded.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Alison said, releasing the shield. “But I think you’ve gotten a raw deal.”
“I find the understatement really annoying. But, yeah. Raw deal sums it up.”
Alison didn’t know what else to tell Her Supremeness. She had no idea what a gatekeeper was and as far as communicating with Sixth Earth, well, Alison was still trying to get used to Second. The information Leto had shared with her while she’d been in his head was now cloaked behind as powerful a shield as Alison could create within a pocket of her mind.
“Fine,�
� Endelle muttered. “I’ll take it from here.”
Alison took another deep breath then turned back to her caveman of a boyfriend. She was about to explain to him what had happened, but he stepped close to her and with his nose about an inch away from hers, he cried, “My woman stays out of the heads of other men.”
“What?” she cried.
“Just stay the fuck out of Leto’s head or anyone else’s. Are we clear?”
“No, Kerrick, we’re not clear. Who do you think you are telling me what I can and cannot do?”
Endelle whistled. “You go, girl!”
* * *
Kerrick knew he’d drifted into some kind of Neanderthal overdrive, which wasn’t helping at all, but his body, his mind, his blood rebelled at the thought that Alison had been in Leto’s head. She wasn’t to go into the minds of other men … ever. EVER. He growled. He glared. I want an explanation, he sent. What the hell were you doing in his mind? How much did you see? Was he in yours? Did you like being in there? Does he have intentions toward you now? You do know he’s the enemy, right? A goddamn traitor?
Alison’s eyes opened wide; then she had the audacity to actually smile. You are so jealous.
He growled all over again and narrowed his eyes. If wanting to tear Leto’s limbs off one by one means I’m jealous, yeah, I’m jealous. But it was more than that. Jealousy was a very small word compared with what he was feeling right now. Jealousy was a breeze when what he felt carried hurricane-force winds.
You know, all your cardamom is starting to get to me. I feel like I walked into a Moroccan café. Her voice had a soft quality, seductive, not what he expected right now.
This isn’t over.
Then we’ll talk later.
Just don’t ever go into the mind of another man again. Have you got that?
She put her hands on her hips, those hips covered in a whole lot of tight clinging leather. His gaze drifted down then back up.
I’ll do what I please, she responded, but her blue eyes had taken on a challenging glint, which had less to do with her will in the matter and more to do with wanting to get him worked up.