Gates of Rapture

CHAPTER 4

Greaves sat at the head of his Geneva Round Table, in the throne-like chair he had designed to place him above any who would come to serve the Coming Order. The table represented his dreams of one day ruling Second Earth. He put his finger to his lips and plucked. He could feel the frown between his brows.
Earlier, he had felt the cosmic ripple indicating that Grace Albion, the blue variety of obsidian flame, had returned to the lower dimensions.
On the heels of this unwelcome sensation came the reports from his Seers Fortresses that had shrunk his testicles. Essentially, a decisive battle was coming. Thorne’s army, supported by the obsidian flame triad, would be mobilizing soon. But that was all the reports had said—not when there would be a battle, or who the victor would be.
He sighed heavily, his gaze drifting over the table, back and forth. He had not gathered an assembly of High Administrators here in almost two years, from the time that Alison Wells had ascended to Second Earth and bonded with Warrior Kerrick. Her ascension had been the beginning of a long nightmare where his plans were concerned. Since her arrival, even more powerful women had risen to become bonded with several of the über-powerful Warriors of the Blood, ultimately changing the political landscape and forcing Greaves to shift his strategies again and again.
At present, the round table was empty and would remain so until the war was won. But for the first time in his long life, he knew that all his glorious dreams, including an administration that would meet here in Geneva and run the Coming Order, were in jeopardy.
He leaned an elbow on the well-padded arm of his chair and tugged once more at his lower lip.
Grace had finally returned from her little sojourn on Fourth, studying at his mother’s knee while romping in Casimir’s bed. His mother would have liked Grace’s spiritual inclinations, and Casimir would have made liberal use of her body since apparently he had been her breh.
Now she was back, having left both Beatrice and Casimir behind.
Though he prided himself on his generally positive attitude, he couldn’t help but feel morbid about her return. In point of fact, he had been dreading this moment for one simple reason: He would now have to deal with obsidian flame, because Grace would complete the triad.
The truth was that Greaves simply didn’t know what obsidian flame would be capable of once it launched. Two of the pieces were already in place. Fiona Gaines, now breh to Warrior Jean-Pierre, was the gold variety, and Marguerite Dresner, breh to Thorne, was the red variety. Add blue, as in Grace, and who knew what level of power the three women could achieve. It was even rumored that Thorne, himself, was obsidian flame, but Greaves didn’t know what his role was, or possibly could be. So the whole thing was just one giant assf*ck waiting to happen.
Five months ago when Grace had taken off with Casimir, she had disappeared from the future streams, which had then forced Greaves into a holding pattern. Unable to learn when she was most likely to return, he knew that any attempt to take over Second Earth risked the possibility that she could show up, engage with obsidian flame, and destroy his plans.
However, he still had the advantage over Endelle in terms of the size of his army. At two million strong, thanks to Leto, he could subdue Endelle’s forces any day of the week. In addition, he had some sway with COPASS, since at least a third of the members were addicted to dying blood. It wasn’t a perfect situation, but he could frequently manipulate international politics to side with him.
On the other hand, Endelle still had the majority of territories aligned with her. Of course, she was now losing them at a rate of one a week because Greaves had been impressing the High Administrators with his army as well as offering all sorts of incentives to align with the Coming Order.
But Grace was back, and he would have to start dealing with her. She and Leto would be his primary targets over the next few days. His secondary object was to destroy the hidden colony network on Mortal Earth. His Seers Fortresses had relayed a constant stream of prophetic information about that network, which indicated Leto had built up a formidable army among what turned out to be a thousand hidden colonies worldwide on Mortal Earth. According to Seer information some of those colonies had over ten thousand residents.
But finding the colonies had been a bitch. However, with the first location mapped and his teams reporting great success with his transmitter concept, he knew that within days all of the colonies would be visible on his electronic grid.
For that reason alone—that the hidden colony network was nearly in his grasp—the timing of Grace’s return frustrated the hell out of him. Once he knew the exact locations of each colony, he had planned on destroying them one by one and thereby the army that Leto had built within the Militia Warrior population of each colony. After each community was brought under his control, he would then extract what he believed was a vast wealth of Seers and force them into his various Seers Fortresses. He dared even the powerful Marguerite to best him then.
But now Grace was back, which would no doubt put obsidian flame into play. The timing was an absolute bitch.
He closed his eyes and calmed his spirit. He would need to keep a cool head to face the challenges of the next few days and weeks. He developed a new mantra: Stay focused, capture and eradicate Grace, destroy the hidden colonies.
As he rose from his chair, he decided it was time to put to work his most powerful Seer: Owen Stannett.
He focused on Stannett and found him in his private meditation room, where he knew the pervert liked to cruise the future streams and do his own form of porn viewing: real couples, future time. He gave him a mental nudge as a warning, waited a few seconds, then simply folded from Geneva Two all the way to the inner depths of the Illinois Two Seers Fortress.
He found Stannett on his chaise longue, zipping up his pants and rising to a sitting position. “Master,” Stannett said, looking up at him. His cheeks were flushed as he patted the immaculately coiffed wave alongside his head.
“Enjoying yourself I see.”
At that, Stannett smiled. “Always, but to what do I owe the honor of your visit?” He turned and slid his legs over the side of the chaise.
“Well, my friend, if you had not been so busy beneath your leathers, you might have noticed a slight wavering in the fabric of space and time, a rumbling as it were in the order of the entire universe.”
Stannett frowned.
“Grace has returned.”
His eyes went wide. “Well, finally. What do you intend to do?”
“To find her and separate her from the herd if I can. Then I’ll give her to one of my Third Earth death vampires as a snack.”
Stannett eyed him carefully. “I’ve always wondered how you managed to bring Third Earth death vampires down here to Second Earth when the portal to Third has been closed all this time.”
At that, Greaves smiled. He had his own secrets, and since he didn’t really trust Stannett, he said, “I have many powers, my friend.”
Stannett chuckled. “Well, I do like the idea of giving Grace to your vampires to feed on.”
Stannett was not a squeamish vampire, but then a man who had raped his own Seers when he was the High Administrator of the Superstition Mountain Seers Fortress did not have the loftiest morals.
“I want you to recommence your experiments harnessing yourself to six Seers. I must have pure vision.”
“But, master, you know the difficulty. The Seers keep dying.”
“I no longer care. I shall have the best Seers from my Mumbai, Johannesburg, and Bogotá Fortresses shipped here as needed. From all your experiments over the past several months, we both know that a more powerful Seer has a greater chance of surviving the process. The Coming Order is in grave danger because of obsidian flame and because of the colonial militia. Grace completes the triad, as you well know. I must have the most perfect visions of the progress of the triad over the coming days. Are you still unable to track any of the Warriors of the Blood?”
“Marguerite guards them all from me while in the future streams. She has great power. Greater than mine.”
“But I know that you have the power to block her in the future streams as well, right?”
Stannett nodded.
“Then do so going forward. But right now, I’d like a little information.” He directed Stannett to recline once more on his chaise longue. “I want you to enter the future streams and as you do, I will join my mind with yours so that I can see what you see. I want you to focus on Grace. At the very least, I want to know where she has gone, though I already suspect she is with Leto at the Seattle Colony.”
Stannett stretched out once more, folded his hands over his stomach, and closed his eyes.
Greaves put his hand on Stannett’s forehead and slipped within. He ignored the chaos that came at him from all quarters, all that Stannett was as an ascended vampire. He joined his mind to Stannett’s as the Seer began to focus. He had done this a handful of times over the centuries so he knew what to expect. But he was still surprised at the beauty of the future stream ribbons that flowed endlessly away from the eye and stretched in an infinite range of colors.
Stannett centered his mind on Grace, and a lot of the chaos disappeared.
The line of ribbons began to move rapidly for several seconds, then slowed until an iridescent blue ribbon of light appeared, bearing a central stream of red and gold. Greaves could feel that the ribbon belonged to Grace.
Stannett picked up Grace’s ribbon again and felt his way into the immediate future. How curious that Greaves could tell that what he saw would happen this very evening. Though he had not been to the Seattle hidden colony, he could sense the location. How absurdly quaint. Beyond the rows of cottage-like homes, each with attached vegetable gardens, was a massive setup like a medieval fair with canvas booths. Opposite the booths was an oval track set up for runners with lanes. In the center of the racetrack were all sorts of jumbles of logs and blocks and old used tires, like you’d find in army training camps. This his Seers had prophesied; he recognized the warrior games.
The vision moved suddenly to Grace, who sat in the grandstands near the oval track beside Leto. She held his arm and looked up at him. She wore a long loose skirt, jewelry on both her wrists, her hair curled and hanging in a golden cloud around her shoulders and down her back. An array of silver stars crowned her head.
She looked different, changed, more womanly, less like a convent devotiate. But then she’d shared Casimir’s bed. Maybe he’d brought her up to speed.
The vision panned back even farther, but what Greaves saw sent a chill straight through him. On Grace’s left were Marguerite and Thorne, and on Leto’s right sat Fiona and Warrior Jean-Pierre.
In other words, obsidian flame would start coming together tonight.
He had seen enough of the warrior games. To Stannett’s mind, he sent, I want you to focus on the hidden colony we mapped at Nazca in Peru.
Stannett merely shifted his focus. The ribbons began to move rapidly for a few seconds, this time in the opposite direction, then slowed. A sand-colored ribbon rose. Stannett dove within so that Greaves saw the very small colony, with just a few hundred ascenders in residence. Above the mossy dome of mist, now partially burned away, dozens of death vampires appeared in flight, beautiful black wings flapping. They descended on the colonists below, in close-mount, wings pulled in tight. When the screaming started, Greaves smiled.
He watched the entire vision play out until the moment Leto arrived; then the vision faded, blocked by Marguerite. But he was left with an idea that involved Leto and at least ten of his Third Earth death vampires. He was still very unhappy that Leto had proved to be so disloyal. He wanted his skin and if he could get it, he would. Given that he knew where Leto would be, this seemed as good an opportunity as any to make an effort.
As he drew out from the vision, he had his next course of action in hand. He would destroy the first of the colonies, a good beginning. And in the process, maybe he could take Leto down as well. No doubt Endelle would retaliate, which he hoped would mean that she would make some sort of use of obsidian flame. More than anything else, he needed to figure out what the triad could do if he had any hopes of winning the coming battle.
He reiterated that he wanted Stannett to put all his effort in to harnessing Seers, as many as it would take to achieve pure vision. “This is your top priority. I must have the best possible information that you can provide me. The next several days will be critical to the Coming Order. Do you understand?”
Stannett nodded gravely. “I understand, master.”
“Good.”
With his plans set in place, Greaves smiled the entire distance back to Geneva.
*   *   *

“But I miss Grace already.” Kendrew’s brow tightened.
“All will be well,” Casimir said. “She had to return to Mortal Earth to help a friend, but she will be back. She promised me she would.”
Kendrew didn’t look convinced, but why would he trust anything Casimir said? He hadn’t exactly provided his boys with the most stable environment—except of course for these several idyllic months with Grace, in Beatrice’s palace. He’d actually watched his boys start to relax, even to run and play as boys should.
Casimir lay on the soft silks of his bed, in the redemption gown of white linen that he wore day and night since entering Beatrice’s program. His skin felt as though it should be blistered because he was in such terrible pain, his soul no less so, but he knew the pain he felt was of a spiritual nature and would soon pass.
For now, he had much to think about.
Beatrice had tried to warn him to follow the program and to not hurry his steps. But from the time he’d made the decision to enter the program in hopes of preserving his precious hide, he’d experienced a terrible urgency to move forward as quickly as he could.
He had arrived as Grace’s breh and had taken her into his bed, making love to her for the first few weeks. He’d fallen in love with her and couldn’t imagine a life without her, yet he knew that part of his journey was over as well.
But it was when he felt his impending death as strongly as Grace did that he’d made the decision to do the impossible and to attempt to redeem his soul. He wanted to live. More than anything, he wanted to live to raise his boys, to make up for the self-absorbed behavior that had cost them their mother’s life.
How odd, though, that the call of the breh-hedden had disappeared as quickly as a sigh the moment his toe hit the water of the first pool. He had lost his ability to scent Grace and she him. Their moment of shared passion had passed.
He had never blamed Grace for the disappearance of the breh-hedden. She had simply been a light he could not hold. She had saved him by coming with him to Fourth and by encouraging him to enter Beatrice’s program. Her presence in his life had made him a better father and a better man and quite possibly had returned his life to him.
He knew the sacrifice she had made in leaving Leto behind. But at the time, he hadn’t given a blind bat’s testicle about how she felt, only that she was with him and that he’d been able to take her to bed. Now, after experiencing true remorse, and seeing from the perspective of those he’d hurt, he would give anything to undo the deed.
But here was the true punishment of remorse: that nothing could be taken back.
His only consolation was in the nature of the task he’d foreseen accomplishing in the lower dimensions. Grace had sacrificed for him, and now he must return the favor. If only he’d been able to complete the redemption program, he would be home free.
Not so now. Despite his hurrying the process today, he now faced his mortality as surely as he’d let the Grim Reaper in the door himself.
But if there was any way that he could come out of this alive, he’d do it. He didn’t care what it took.
Both Kendrew and Sloane stood by the side of his bed. The windows were open and the sheer drapes billowed, letting in the fresh Denver Four evening air.
He reached a hand toward Kendrew and smoothed his fingers over the small wrinkles on his son’s forehead. He could sense Kendrew’s confusion. Sloane stood beside him, younger and much less certain about all that was happening. His lips were turned down and he leaned into Kendrew. He relied heavily on his older brother, another point of remorse for Casimir.
“I miss Grace, too,” Sloane said.
He smiled at Sloane. “I know you do.”
Because of Beatrice’s program he had a sensitivity to others he’d never known before, so he could feel now all that his boys had suffered because of his narcissistic lifestyle. He had not done right by his children, the first he’d ever had in his five millennia of vampire life. But he would make it up to them, so help him God.
He looked into Kendrew’s eyes and held his gaze firmly. “You will be with Grace again, I promise you that with all my heart.”
“How do you know, Papa, when everyone leaves?”
His chest hurt as though a boulder now sat on top of him. “Because I saw it in a vision, that you would be camping with her one day.”
“When did you see the vision?”
“While I was in Auntie Beatrice’s pool. And you know how wise and powerful your auntie is.”
At that, the wrinkles began to soften. “She can make butterflies appear with a wave of her hands.”
Casimir smiled, but the smile cost him because it stretched the skin of his face. He didn’t stop, though. What a small price to pay, this pain he was feeling, for all that he had done in his long wretched life, for the way he had failed to protect their mother from something so simple as a car accident on Mortal Earth. He had heard her screams between dimensions, but because he’d been enjoying himself with another woman, he’d ignored her and she had died.
Oh, yes, his sins were legion.
But he was atoning, and he would continue to atone until the last second of his life, so help him Creator. He opened his arms therefore to his boys. “Come to me. Let me kiss those beautiful foreheads.”
They were too young to understand that he was in pain, so as they scrambled over him, he took deep breaths and refused to release the bellows that hung low in the depths of his lungs. He could have screamed for the agony, but he didn’t.
Instead he drew his sons close, one to each side, and cradled them, ignoring the fire on his skin and instead savoring that what he loved the most was close to him in this moment.
He talked with them and laughed with them, until they began to slumber. He saw the stars through the sheer drapes. He gave thanks for the beauty of this night and for the path he was on. He ignored the darkness of the future. Above all, he promised himself that he would fulfill the destiny he had foreseen. In a few hours, when he was better recovered, he would pay a visit to Endelle, offering his services as a Guardian of Ascension.
As he slumbered, a dream came to him. He saw an elderly man sitting on a park bench feeding sunflower seeds to pigeons clustered around his feet. The man looked up at him with eyes that shone as he said, “Well met, Casimir. You will attend me tomorrow at the portal to Third Earth.”
“How do I find the portal when it’s been closed for so long?”
“It’s above White Lake on Second Earth, but you have sufficient power to follow the coordinates I give you now. You will awaken in a few hours completely healed. You must come to me then.” Casimir felt the information drop into his brain. He bowed to the old man, and the dream faded.
*   *   *

Grace stood in front of the mirror in Leto’s upstairs bathroom. She’d taken her time showering, then afterward drying and curling her hair, dressing, putting on makeup, just being a girl. She lifted a hand to flick her eyebrows a little, shaping them. All the silver bracelets jangled, the ones she had crafted herself during her stay at Beatrice’s home.
The bracelets made a pretty sound, a relatively new sound in her ascended life.
She was nervous. Leto hadn’t exactly seen her like this but she thought maybe she needed to be forthright—not just about Casimir and Fourth and her intentions now that she was back, but about everything.
She’d changed her manner of dress, something Leto wouldn’t have noticed since he’d been in his beast-state when she arrived in his basement. Later, at the hot spring, her makeup was gone and her hair plastered to her head, no curls, no beads, no stars, no blue sapphire, no adornments.
She moved to the window of the bedroom and looked down into the open backyard. Two Militia Warriors were standing close together and laughing. If she extended her hearing, she’d be able to hear the gist. But then they were warriors. She probably didn’t want to know what they were talking about.
Okay, so she was stalling.
She put a hand to her stomach. Her bare stomach. The full-length muslin skirt hung low on her hips, and the top was cut long at the sides but high at the middle of the waist to allow a peekaboo of her navel. Though the blouse had long sleeves, the neckline plunged and she was very much on display. She fingered the small sapphire in the loop just above her belly button.
Her heart tapped a little tremolo.
Would Leto even like this version of her?
“Move it, Grace,” she murmured.
She could have folded outside to the warriors, but they’d probably all draw their swords. If she understood their positions, they’d surrounded the house. Also, Leto had talked about folding to the landing platforms, which meant that dematerializing in the colony right now was being monitored carefully.
So she walked down the stairs and loosened up by shaking her hands a few times.
She opened the front door, and four warriors turned in her direction. The nearest was almost as tall as Leto. His brows rose and he seemed to freeze as he stared at her. The rest did as well.
“I’m ready,” she said. When no one said anything, she felt a slight blush rise on her cheeks. She’d spent a hundred years in a convent, covered from neck to ankle. She often forgot what the display of a certain amount of skin could do to a man.
She also knew that for this event and among the colonists, she was dressed properly for an outdoor, festive occasion, held at night.
The tallest one, who seemed to be in charge, blinked a couple of times and lifted his chin as though studiously refusing to drop his gaze lower. Yes, she was definitely showing some cleavage, and, yes, her stomach was bare.
“Good evening, ma’am. I’m Warrior Gideon. My squad will see you safely to the landing platforms in the valley proper. I understand you’re familiar with the valley and with the Seattle hidden colony?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Warrior Leto wanted me to tell you that platforms have been set up on the far western side of the competition zone. That’s where we’ll be going from here.”
She smiled. As though she hadn’t been folding all her two thousand years and into tens of thousands of different localities, including Fourth Earth. “You’re very kind, but I think I can handle a little fold through the forest and across a fairly narrow glade.”
At that, a glimmer shone in the warrior’s eye and his lips twitched. “I might have made mention of that fact to Warrior Leto.”
“And?”
“He might have scowled at me.”
Grace smiled. “Then allow me to take your arm for the fold.”
He moved with that easy lethal stride that most athletes and warriors possessed. When she took his proffered arm, he spoke into his com. His squad of eight, from all around the building, folded to his position, assumed a large V-formation flight pattern. A moment later she felt that swift glide of nothingness through nether-space. But despite her confidence, she landed a little unsteadily.
Gideon caught her. He glanced down at her with a questioning brow.
She shrugged. “And after I boasted about my abilities. I do have an excuse, though. My last fold was from Fourth. I forgot how short this one would be.”
He chuckled. “Show-off.”
She was laughing when half the warriors behind moved forward and started to march down the ramp in front of her. The rest would no doubt follow. Leto would have arranged this. He had said he would do his utmost to protect her.
Lifting her gaze, she took everything in at a glance. From the elevated position of the landing platforms, she could see that the warrior games were about ready to start. The entire colony had to be present as well as competitors from all over the world. She could hear various languages float across the air.
To the left of the platforms, which was north in this case, were dozens of tents selling clothes, food, trinkets, and jewelry. She’d have to check out the latter, but the smell of grilled meat made her stomach rumble.
To the right were what looked like a number of massive structures that no doubt tested various warrior skills. Arranged throughout were tall poles on which sat metal-sculpted baskets full of wood. A crude form of lighting, perhaps? There were a couple dozen of them arranged down both sides of the event grid. In addition, lines of torches were everywhere, guarded and kept lit by teen ascenders all wearing matching bright orange T-shirts and jeans.
She knew that the Seattle One hidden colony had a strict policy of keeping electricity-based light usage low in order to sustain the colony’s secrecy. The overhead web of moss-based mist could only go so far in cloaking the colony.
Excitement permeated the air.
When the first four Militia Warriors parted, she had a view of the ascenders waiting for her at the bottom of the platform. There were two women and four men, and she smiled since she knew them all.
Jean-Pierre stood with his arm draped over Fiona’s shoulder, his fingers laced through hers. They were both listening to Jean-Pierre’s great-grandson Arthur tell a story of some kind. She still couldn’t get over how much Arthur could have been Jean-Pierre’s twin.
Thorne stood slightly turned away from Fiona, his hand on Marguerite’s hip. She faced Leto and punched a finger into his weapons harness at pec height and was telling him something quite firmly. Thorne didn’t look happy. He kept batting her finger away from Leto.
Leto backed up a step. Grace thought she knew what was going on, so she extended her hearing; sure enough, Thorne had set up a possessive growl. Yep, her brother was growling at Leto.
Marguerite whirled on Thorne and shoved at his chest with both hands, but he didn’t budge. He just glared at Leto over her head until she finally reached up and kissed him flush on the lips. She had to reach pretty far since Marguerite was the short one of the group at only five-five. She was also very pregnant. Thorne froze and kind of melted all over her, apologizing and kissing her neck and her chin.
Leto stood back from them, but he was smiling and shaking his head.
She heard Arthur’s voice as he said, “Holy shit, is that Grace?”
She glanced in his direction and once more felt a sudden heat rise on her cheeks.
“Grace?” Thorne’s gravelly voice cut through all the chatter. “Is that you?”
She shifted to meet Thorne’s surprised gaze. He was looking her up and down. She nodded.
He ran toward her and her heart warmed up. Was this Thorne? He actually smiled. He was holding her in his arms and twirling her in a circle until her legs and fairly full skirt flowed away from her. She must have looked like a large flag.
When at last she was begging him to stop, he set her down and he was grinning from ear to ear. She quickly adjusted her clothes, pulling the waist of her skirt up and the hem of her top down.
Leto moved up next to her. She heard him giving orders to Gideon and his men, but Grace was focused on her brother. “Thorne, you look so different—and can I say, wow, you actually look happy.”
Thorne extended his arm to Marguerite. “I am happy, and here’s the reason why.”
Marguerite led with her belly. Her hair was still short and very blond, which seemed to enhance her large brown eyes. She looked adorable. Grace greeted her with a hug, though she had to lean down to do it. They’d been cellmates in the Convent, and good friends. She’d missed Marguerite.
Thorne’s arm was immediately around his breh’s waist, part protective, part possessive, and a big part just wonderful affection. Marguerite put her hand on Thorne’s.
“So you’ve come home,” Marguerite said. “I heard you were on Fourth.”
“I was.”
“What’s it like up there?”
“Beautiful. I stayed at Beatrice’s palace. It was similar to Endelle’s palace but practical, with more hallways and private rooms, a lovely and very large central courtyard with plants from all over the world. And a hanging garden off the second-story balconies.” She felt shy again, since everyone was staring at her. “Oh, I guess I forgot the most important part. Many of the homes, like Beatrice’s, float in the air.”
“No shit,” Marguerite said. She then patted her belly. “Sorry, kids.” She glanced back at Grace and lowered her voice. “We’re trying to curb warrior-speak. But, hey, I’m so glad you’re back. We all are.”
“It’s good to be back.”
Thorne brought Fiona forward next. She was the gold variety of obsidian flame, the first to discover her power. Jean-Pierre and Arthur rounded out the half circle on the left, next to Thorne, with Leto on the right.
As Fiona drew close, Grace felt her obsidian power begin to vibrate and rise through the bottoms of her feet as though originating from deep in the earth.
“What’s happening?” Thorne asked.
Since Marguerite was already close, Grace glanced at each of them. Power vibrated from one to the next, flowing and rippling. As though they’d always done so, they touched shoulders and formed a circle.
“Oh, the babies are kicking like crazy now,” Marguerite murmured.
Grace’s power really began to flow, and she knew it was the same for both Fiona and Marguerite. Without warning, their powers combined, though Grace could tell hers was weak since it still hadn’t been fully released. She had a sense that the men had moved back a couple of steps, taking it in.
Power swirled and rose. She looked up and three flames of color twirled together; gold, red, and blue.
But the sensation began to feel uncomfortable for Grace and not quite right. “No,” she said. A headache crawled up the back of her skull and nearly imploded her brain. “No,” she said louder. “Please stop.”
“I … can’t,” Marguerite whispered.
“Jean-Pierre,” Fiona called out. “Help us.”
But it was Thorne who pushed between Marguerite and Fiona and broke the circle. All that power that had been flowing around and building now seemed to flow into him.
Thorne ended up glowing, but apparently that wasn’t unusual for his version of obsidian flame. Fiona, too, would glow. Grace remembered stories about Fiona—that when she was first learning to use her power, she would light up the Militia Warrior grid room in Apache Junction Two with her golden aura.
At least Grace could breathe again.
She stepped away from Thorne to look at him, to enjoy the silver light of his aura. She hadn’t seen him since his own obsidian power had emerged so many months ago. He lifted his arms wide and turned in a circle. “This feels like heaven.”
Grace’s headache worsened so that she half fell, half collapsed to a sitting position on the sawdust that covered the event grounds. Leto immediately dropped to his knees beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“My head. It really hurts.”
“Gideon,” Leto called out sharply. “Get one of the healers over here. Now.”
“You’re barking,” she said. She turned her head slightly and looked up at him, offering him a smile.
“You deserve a bark or two. You’re scaring me.”
“It’s just a headache, but it was so sudden. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Marguerite looked down at her. “I do. You need Leto to bust open your obsidian flame power. It’s no picnic to get it opened up, though.” She glanced up at Thorne, whose glowing skin was finally settling down. “But it has its perks.”
When Thorne’s eyes fell to half-mast and he once more cuddled with Marguerite, Grace looked away. The sight of her brother so much in love warmed her heart, but her head still really hurt.
Thank goodness the healer arrived. The woman dropped to her knees and asked Grace to describe the pain. When Grace told her, the healer put her hands just above Grace’s head; the result was almost instantaneous. Soothing waves of healing warmth began to flow through her mind, and the pain drifted away. Her lungs opened fully and she breathed deep.
She looked up at the healer and smiled. “That was wonderful. And fast. Thank you so much.”
“I’m training to work with the Militia Warriors. They don’t have enough women in the healers division yet, but we’re getting more assigned to the training program every day.”
Grace smiled. Things were changing everywhere. She knew that Horace, who took care of the Warriors of the Blood every night at the Borderland battlegrounds, had mostly men on his teams.
Leto offered her a hand and helped her to her feet. She swatted sawdust off the back of her skirt.
She was about to apologize when a short male ascender, bearing a clipboard and a headset, approached Leto. “Five minutes, Warrior Leto. All is ready for you.”
Leto thanked him then glanced around the group. “Ready for opening ceremonies?”
*   *   *

When Casimir folded to the gateway to Third Earth, he had half expected to see the park bench from his dreams. But no such thing. He stood in a large room with windows across one wall that had the capacity to see through a dimensional Trough, something he’d never experienced before.
He turned to look at the opposite wall, which held a set of thick-looking steel gates like something borrowed from a Mortal Earth maximum-security prison. Instinctively he knew that no one could fold into the space without prior permission, undoubtedly from the Sixth Earth gatekeeper.
The side walls of the space were paneled in a fine-grained wood but had no other adornments. The wall to his left, however, had a door that led to another room.
He moved back to the windows, which were curved and created part of the flooring. This portion of the windows could actually be walked on.
He moved there now and below, at a great distance, perhaps a mile, was what he knew to be the extensive White Lake Resort Colony that stretched the length of White Lake on both sides of the man-made body of water. Located on the west side of the White Tank Mountains, the lake was lined with over a hundred hotels and public gardens.
As he looked around, however, he caught a scent, something similar to Grace’s scent, yet different. He could smell a meadow now, yet this one seemed richer—as though it had blossomed with a thousand wildflowers all at once.
The trouble was, he liked the scent and the scent liked him so that he began to be aroused. He shook his head. He’d already had one difficult experience with the breh-hedden. He didn’t want another. But beyond that, what was the likelihood that he would be given a second chance at having something so profound as a breh?
He chose therefore to ignore the scent, believing it must be his imagination. As he looked through the window once more, he felt the presence of the Sixth ascender before he saw him.
When the old man materialized, he inclined his head to Casimir. “How do you do? I’m James of Sixth Earth. I’ve been the gatekeeper here for a few millennia.”
Casimir extended his hand, and James shook it.
He’d heard of James. Grace had told him the stories of Alison, who had met him during her rite of ascension. Apparently, this was the same ascender who had persuaded Leto to serve as a spy for the sixth dimension by appearing to defect to Greaves’s camp.
Casimir had several questions, most having to do with the portal to Third, so he launched in. “Were you the one who sealed off the third dimension from all the others?”
James shook his head. “No, that was Luchianne’s call. A bit before my time.” Luchianne was the first vampire ever and had ascended to Second Earth eleven thousand years ago. “When she saw the danger Third Earth presented to the rest of the dimensions, she made sure the portal was sealed.”
“Grace told me that Alison was destined to open the portal,” Casimir said. “Has the danger that Third Earth previously posed to the dimensions diminished?”
“No, the danger remains as grave as ever. However, what will be needed to secure Second Earth from the difficulties of Third is to have the portal fully opened. Your former friend Greaves has been slipping Third Earth death vampires through a breach in the portal that we’ve been unable to locate. If we open the portal, we can seal the breach and thereby ensure that no more of these extremely powerful death vampires can pass through the Trough from this point forward.”
Casimir frowned. “But if Luchianne closed the portal, why doesn’t she open it back up to set it straight?”
“Luchianne is a stickler for the niceties. She wants a Second ascender to open the portal, which sets a precedent that only Second Earth can open or shut the portal. She doesn’t want Upper ascenders to have command over any of the lower dimensional Troughs.”
Casimir thought that made sense. Autonomy from dimension to dimension had always been the law. “When I was in Beatrice’s redemption pool, I saw that I was to become a Guardian of Ascension—but who am I guarding?”
At that, James smiled. “Haven’t you guessed?”
“I haven’t got a clue.”
The smile broadened to a grin. “Leto, of course.”
Casimir’s jaw unhinged and his mouth fell open. “Holy f*ck.” How the hell did he end up as a guardian to a man whose woman he’d stolen? He sighed. Sometimes Fate had a twisted sense of humor.
“All right, so I’m Leto’s guardian. How will this work? Am I supposed to rent a house on Second or something?”
“You can use this space if you like. Nothing can touch you here, although I should warn you that there is a female, a Third ascender who has worked for me for the past century, making sure the gate isn’t tampered with. She’ll show up from time to time. She serves as a Militia Warrior here on Third, so she’s very busy helping to keep the peace.”
Casimir thought about the scent he’d smelled earlier. Maybe it was hers. If so, she wore a very strong perfume.
“As for how you manage your guardian job, I presume you have a voyeur window, right?”
“Of course.” What Fourth ascender didn’t? “Are you saying you expect me to spy on Leto?”
“Yes, to a degree. I can see that you’re a changed man, so I hope you’ll show some good sense where both Leto and Grace are concerned. And by good sense, I mean discretion.”
Casimir smiled, though his lips tugged up a little higher on one side of his mouth than the other. In earlier times, he would have kept the window open constantly and savored every naked ass, male or female, he could find, the more action the better.
But now he knew what remorse felt like, and he knew that Grace would be appalled if she even suspected he’d been tagging after her with a voyeur window hoping to catch a glimpse of her locked in a joining with Leto. He couldn’t help repress a sigh. “A few months ago, this would have been a dream assignment.”
“Kind of sucks to be reformed, doesn’t it?” James offered.
Casimir met James’s gaze. He was short for an ascender, and all that gray hair led Caz to believe he wasn’t looking at James in his usual form. “You sound like you know where of you speak.”
James sighed. “I do. But I also know everything will work out just fine as long as I do what I need to do.”
“Are those words for the wise?”
James nodded.
“Fine. I’ll be respectful and stay focused on my mission.” He glanced around once more. “And I’ll make this area my home base.”
“It’s a good space. The door to your left leads to a comfortable suite with a bed, a kitchen, a living area, the usual.”
“Thanks.”
James gripped his arm suddenly. “Guard Leto. This is most important. Use your Fourth Earth hand-blast capability if you need to and don’t let him get killed. He’s critical for the future of Second Earth.”
“Understood.”
“And as soon as you can, present yourself to Madame Endelle as Leto’s guardian. Protocol demands that she accept your services.”
*   *   *

Leto held Grace’s arm pressed around his own as he led the group to the eastern side of the games where several sets of grandstands had been built. Diallo, who oversaw all administrative aspects of the colony, had designated a box for Leto’s use throughout the three days. Militia Warriors were posted at each end of the box as well.
As he walked, he kept glancing at Grace. She was so changed. She wore a crown of several small silver stars, and her hair was in a beautiful cloud that floated over her shoulders and down her back. She wore makeup and jewelry but it was her outfit that had his body in an uproar.
The top was sexy as hell and cut low enough to make his tongue tingle. Her cleavage was exquisite. Her skirt rode low on her hips so that more than once, when he reached for her, his hand hit bare flesh. He found himself grateful for a pair of snug briefs and a kilt. Both hid a multitude of sins, big sins.
He leaned forward and looked down to once more catch sight of the blue gem at her navel. His tongue tingled again. The sensation this time sent a vibration streaking down his left leg. He hissed softly, waiting for the mirror sensation to attack his other leg. If it did, he had six minutes to get to his basement; Diallo would have to take over the opening of the warrior games.
Shit.
“What’s wrong?” Grace asked. She leaned close. He released her, but only to slide his arm around her. “Nothing. That is…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”
Your beast? she sent discreetly.
He met her gaze. Yes. I’m susceptible right now because you’re next to me.
She smiled, but in her eye was an unholy glint. I like your beast.
He guided her around a group of children. Your skirt and your blouse have my body desiring things I shouldn’t be thinking about right now.
She smiled again. Good.
Was this Grace?
He let go of her waist, because she felt too damn wonderful right now. He once more took her arm and was grateful to be distracted by all the well-wishers as he guided her toward the grandstands.
Several enormous screens, a PA system, and a number of cameras were set up to cover the events all up and down the valley as well as to send a secure live feed to the rest of the worldwide hidden colonies.
There were, however, no electric lights anywhere. Though Diallo, the creator of the system of hidden colonies, had perfected over hundreds of years the mossy mist that covered and protected all the colonies around the world, electrical usage was kept as low as possible. Dishes were washed by hand and clothes hung on lines to dry. Gas stoves were used instead of electric. Gas generators were the order of the day, and solar was gradually being implemented as the products improved. But mostly it was the light signatures themselves that were avoided. The grounds, therefore, were lit by torchlight.
That the games were filmed and sent overseas had required a team of advanced mist-makers to get the job done. But Diallo knew his stuff and so far, so good.
When he escorted Grace to the top of the grandstands, he led her first to the box on the left in which Diallo and his wife, Mei-Amadi, were seated. Diallo rose and took Grace’s hand. “I remember you well from your visit a few months back, but I don’t think you met my wife.” He placed his hand on Mei-Amadi’s back. The woman bowed slightly. She had lovely Asian eyes that gave her brown skin an exotic look. Overall, she was lighter-skinned than Diallo. Her hair was piled high on top of her head. She looked regal.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Grace said. “You both must be so pleased with the event tonight.”
“It is wonderful,” Mei-Amadi said, her hands spread wide. “To see competitors from all over the globe, from all the colonies. I never thought to see such a thing happen. But we have Leto to thank for this. He has unified our world here in a way neither Diallo nor I thought possible. Truly magical.”
The assistant with the headset interrupted. “Please forgive me, Warrior Leto, but it’s time.”
“Yes,” Diallo said. “Get the games started or we will have many unhappy warriors shaking fists at us in a minute or two.”
Leto nodded. “You’re right. The competitors’ nerves will be jumping right now.”
Once Grace was settled in his box, he approached the microphone. He took a long, slow breath. The entire fairgrounds had fallen silent. Crying babies were soothed by caregivers and children ordered to hush. Only a breeze set a few flags flapping here and there.
For a long moment, Leto was overcome by the respect he was being paid. Not long ago, he’d been a despised traitor, but all that had changed when Grace had brought him almost magically out of Moscow Two and away from Commander Greaves permanently.
Now he was a resident of the hidden colony and everyone waited to hear what he had to say.
He had taken great pains to prepare a speech with which to open the games, focusing on how proud he was of the contestants and the hidden colony Militia Warriors, on his gratitude for having a place in their lives. All good stuff.
But as he surveyed the crowd, his heart began to expand. He saw the families he had come to know and love over the past five months, all those ascenders who had embraced him and forgiven him, who had helped him build his cabin. He saw, lined up by colony, the hundreds of warriors, both male and female, who had trained hard under his leadership in preparation not only for the games over the next three days but for the ongoing war against Greaves as well.
He felt a strong need to say something different from his practiced praises. Making use of his most powerful voice, he began, “We’re on the brink of war, my fellow ascenders.” He heard a rippling murmur pass through the crowd but most remained silent. “We all know it and we all know that this is the reason our warriors have trained as hard as they have, pushed themselves, male and female alike, gotten hurt in the process then pushed harder still.”
Several small cheers went up and down the narrow valley.
“But at heart, we are all warriors no matter what role we play in our society. Whether we raise our children to be well loved and strong or whether we teach in our schools or labor in the fields to put food on every table, or build a business to serve the community. This is the war we make, to care for those we love day in and day out. This is the true battlefield of life.”
More cheers went up, louder this time. He let his gaze ride the scene from the north where all colorful tents were laid out, all the way south across the event obstacles designed to test the mettle of the assembled competitors.
“Hold fast to the job you were designed for. Do that service to your community and to your world with every ounce of strength the Creator has given you. This is the note you sing in the choir of humanity. Hold that note so that the chorus we create together, backed by the angels of heaven, will prevail against the enemy, wherever evil is found. Tonight, we are all warriors.”
A great cheering rose into the dark night sky. Knowing that his words had hit the mark, he cried out very simply, “Let the games begin!”

Jealousy casts a wide net,

But who gets caught in the web?

—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth