Page 2 of Veiled

Duncan gave a quick rundown of events, ending with, “Yolanthe showed up.”

  The squad muttered a few obscenities.

  “Sounds like she has your signature.” Luken shifted his gaze to Merl. “Can she fold someone using a wrist scanner? Is that how she did this?”

  Merl shrugged. “Maybe. Although, she might have done the initial fold from the Grid Operating Center. Either way, she has enough power to pull it off.”

  “If that’s the case,” Rachel said, “Then why didn’t she take Duncan with her when she had the chance?”

  Merl shut his scanner down. “It’s obvious she has limits and I’ll thank the Creator for it.”

  Luken met Merl’s gaze. “Was Duncan taken when he was shielded? Did Yolanthe have the power to remove him while Rachel covered him with her shield?” He glanced at both Duncan and Rachel, then back to Merl.

  Rachel lifted her chin. “I wasn’t shielding either Merl or Duncan when we went into the grid. I only intended to use the power if wreckers approached. As soon as Duncan was taken, I shielded Merl, but it was never the plan to go in shielded.”

  “Fuck.” Luken pulled his hands into a pair of powerful fists. “All right, I want to go over this point by point. Spare no detail. Let’s see if we can figure this out, how to do better for the next mission, though it seems clear we go in shielded from now on.”

  ~

  Yolanthe levitated, holding her skirts against her body as she moved past the dead wrecker. She breathed through her mouth since the stench of ruptured intestines filled the darkening grid. It had been a long time since she’d involved herself in a war zone.

  She took her time returning to her private portal. Now that she was inside the darkening, she wanted to stay for a few minutes, to enjoy the quiet nether-space region she rarely entered as well as the images moving quickly by like a silent movie.

  She couldn’t pierce the darkening on her own; she didn’t have that kind of power. But the development of the comprehensive grid, with portals, had made travel possible for anyone wealthy enough to pay for access. She’d created a portal to Merl’s home just in case she ever needed to pull him out of Second, but to her knowledge he’d never used it.

  However, the thought went through her head: How did Duncan get into the Third grid?

  Was it possible Merl had a connection to Duncan?

  She continued levitating forward. She’d been trying for a month now to reacquire the one man who would have sufficient power in the near future to locate Rapture’s Edge. For her, nothing was more important than gaining access to the mythical place since it would provide sufficient power to conquer Second Earth. More importantly, she would be able to lay the valuable resource at her father’s feet and prove herself worthy in his eyes. Even his three beloved sons had failed to deliver the most significant weapon possible to their father, the noble Chustaffus of Chicago Three.

  But she’d lost Duncan again and all because of Rachel, his shield. Once Rachel had covered Duncan in her power, Yolanthe had been unable to either see Duncan or sense him in any other way. She’d also lost him on her wrist scanner.

  But how had either of them gotten into the grid?

  When she reached her portal, she used the small scanning band on her left wrist and programmed the grid for her villa in Mexico City Three. The moment the portal synced with her home, she simply touched the arched glowing door, the panel opened, and she stepped into her villa living room.

  Her snow leopard lifted his head, ears up, then jumped from the chaise-longue, padding toward her. He nuzzled her extended palm and she took her time rubbing his ears and scratching his face.

  Instead of moving into the room, however, she found her mind stuck on Merl. Until this very moment, she hadn’t considered the possibility of her spy being in any way involved with Duncan. She knew of his liaison with Endelle, of his attempts to seduce the leader of Second Earth, but he’d never said a word about Duncan when he’d reported back to her.

  To be fair, neither had she. Merl didn’t know of her plans to use Duncan to find Rapture’s Edge. But had Merl inadvertently heard things because of his interest in Endelle?

  By Duncan’s presence in the darkening grid, Yolanthe knew Duncan had made plans of his own. But what a Second ascender hoped to accomplish on Third she couldn’t imagine.

  On the other hand, when she’d been in the Grid Operations Center and had locked onto Duncan, she’d noticed two other entities with him. Her only interest at the time, however, had been to separate Duncan from the others in order to renew her mind-link.

  She divined one of the two had been Rachel since Duncan’s supposed breh had rescued him with her bizarre Fourth Earth shielding power. But who was the other individual and why had all three been in the grid?

  Yolanthe now wished she’d taken some time to investigate the others when she’d first come across Duncan’s signature. But she’d been so excited to have located him, she’d folded him away then hurried through her own portal to secure him in the darkening.

  A chill went through her as though someone treaded on her grave. She actually turned in a circle, wondering if someone was there. But she saw only the rust-and-cream marble pillars of her Mexico City Three home, her extensive sculpted gardens, and the usual guards on duty.

  She took a moment and focused inwardly, reaching telepathically for Merl to see if he might know anything about Duncan or his recent activities. Though Merl was in a separate dimension, she had the power to contact him.

  How may I serve, Merl sent. At the sound of his deep resonant voice, a tendril of desire worked through her. She’d tried many times to coax Merl into her bed, but the former and very stubborn Warrior of the Blood had refused.

  Do you know anything about Duncan Wallace being in the Third Earth grid? I found him there tonight.

  Because the telepathic link had been created, she took a moment to explore Merl’s emotions. But all that returned, the only thing she’d ever felt from him, was a profound sense of boredom. Sorry, Your Highness, but I don’t know anything about what that asshole is doing or not doing. I don’t run in his circles. For some reason, he and his pals don’t like me much.

  Merl was too much of a flirt to gain many friendships. Even through your recent pursuit of Endelle, you didn’t come across Duncan or hear mention of his activities?

  Only the breh-hedden shit. Besides, Wallace was always too caught up in his own drama to pay any attention to me. She felt him sigh. Yolanthe, why don’t you let me come home? There’s nothing here for me on Second and I’m bored out of my skull.

  Merl had become a rather hopeless creature, pursuing only his lusts. He was less than useful to her now, especially since Darian Greaves had been sent to Fourth Earth. Before Greaves’s defeat in a battle against Endelle, Merl had provided her with substantial, ongoing reports on Greaves’s attacks against the Second Earth government. And for a while, Yolanthe had actually toyed with the idea of offering to serve as Darian’s queen once he conquered Second Earth. Alas, the man had failed miserably to fulfill his ambitions.

  Now that Greaves was gone, her conversations with Merl had dwindled. But she thought it possible he could make himself useful once more. I need information about Duncan. I want you to get close to him and use any means you can. Track his movements, and report back.

  When he remained silent, a soft alarm went off in the back of her head. Do you understand what I’m asking of you?

  You want me to infiltrate and gather information.

  She smiled. You were never stupid. Just remember our little agreement and stay the course. I need this from you.

  I’m at your service, Princess.

  For a moment, only a split-second really, she felt something emanate from Merl just before she ended the telepathic communication. Stroking her leopard’s head and rubbing his ears, she felt the flavor of the emotion and what came to her was a sense of panic.

  Yolanthe gave herself a shake. She had to be mistaken. What did Merl have to be afraid of, exce
pt of course for the contents of the last cell in her below-ground prison?

  Ah, her prison. One of her favorite places on her estate.

  Maybe it was having a discussion with Merl that gave her the idea, but after a moment, she made her way to the round, stone staircase at the east wing of her villa. She descended slowly, her heartrate ramping up. She would need her sex slaves soon because the sight of her prisoners always fed her libido. In seven of her cells were some of the most famous warriors of Third Earth, each a powerhouse in his own right.

  The Militia Warrior guards who tended to her prisoners came to attention. They wore the burgundy leather weapons harness of the Third Earth Militia, black leather kilts, and the traditional three long braids on either side of the face. “Your Highness,” the men called out in unison, not looking her in the eye as each brought a sword to his chest in salute.

  She nodded, then began a slow progress down the line of cells. She had all seven men shackled and pinned to the walls, some facing away from her, others with a full-frontal view she enjoyed immeasurably. These were no ordinary warriors, but Third Earth Warriors of the Blood, captured at the same time she’d sent Merl to Second Earth.

  She loved seeing a fighting man naked and stripped of his power. Each was heavily muscled since she required her prisoners to work out on a daily basis. She wasn’t completely inhuman; she had her sex slaves service them once a week as long as they continued to build muscle. She would have enjoyed taking the men into her bed, but she was convinced they’d kill her before she even had a chance to spread her legs.

  Guards ranged down the somewhat wide hallway at twenty-foot intervals. She ran a tight ship and in the several centuries she’d kept a working jail, she’d never had one escape. The creation of her formidable mist over her property had been her best safeguard since not even the most powerful inmate could fold out of the prison.

  When she reached the last cell, she smiled, for the woman looked lovely. She wore a semi-sheer lavender veil covering her head and draping past her shoulders. A number of silver weights in the shape of tear-drops were attached to the hem of the veil, holding the fabric in place.

  The covering had two special properties. The first prevented the woman from utilizing her telepathy except with tremendous pain and the other would deliver a death-vapor if she attempted to remove the veil. She wore a fresh linen gown, supplied weekly.

  An unusual kind of power vibrated from the woman, something Yolanthe had never quite understood. It was as though she lived on a different plane while her body remained imprisoned in the villa palace.

  “Katlynn, my dear, I spoke with your brother today for the first time in ages.”

  Katlynn turned slowly in her direction. “You talked to Merl?”

  “Yes, I did.” Yolanthe smiled. “And I can see you’ve grown hopeful. But I assure you, he has no intention of attempting a rescue. He knows full well any such act on his part would force me to draw a blade across your throat.”

  ~

  Duncan had spent the past several minutes detailing for Luken what happened after he’d gotten separated from Merl and Rachel. Luken was still sitting in the dirt, though Horace had brought in two members of his healing squad to help speed up the wing repair process.

  Luken scowled as he shifted his gaze to Merl. “What do you have to say?”

  Merl ground his teeth and flared his nostrils. “Your men are holding back. If Duncan had been able to access his Third Earth powers, Yolanthe couldn’t have trapped him. I can’t teach the unteachable.”

  Merl’s words infuriated Duncan. “Maybe it’s not the team’s fault. Maybe it’s your method, manner, and quality of instruction. I mean, a couple of minutes ago you blanked out when Luken asked you a question. Yeah, I’m thinking it’s you.”

  Merl looked like he wanted to say something, then changed his mind. Even so, he got in Duncan’s face, his light blue eyes fierce. “Did you even try to use your grayle power?”

  He glared back at Merl-the-asshole. “Yes, but with no success.”

  Merl grimaced. “You’re not listening to me, Duncan. You have to seize the power here.” Merl slapped a hand against the center of his own battle harness, then Duncan’s. “You’re rock solid as a Warrior of the Blood on Second, but you’ve got to bump up your game. Otherwise, you’ll be dead before we even set foot on Third Earth.”

  Each foray through the darkening grid had led them to a nest of wreckers and an intense battle, usually involving Rachel’s shield to get them safely out. The team hadn’t yet succeeded once in finding a safe landing on Third Earth.

  Duncan flared his nostrils. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Merl narrowed his eyes and a dark red hue suddenly covered his face. “Get in the game,” he shouted, not two inches away from Duncan.

  “I am in the game.” Duncan withheld a long stream of curses that shot through his head.

  “Like hell you are.”

  Duncan’s hands shook. He wanted to punch the bastard, but it wouldn’t achieve anything especially since Merl was about to go Third Earth warrior on his ass. He could feel the Third ascender revving up.

  Merl turned his back to Duncan. The man’s wing-locks were pumped and ready to explode into full-mount.

  This was not going to be fun.

  As Merl mounted his wings, he disappeared into a fold at exactly the same time. Unbelievable. Dematerializing in full-mount was something none of them could do because it did a serious wing-mangle, at least for Second ascenders. Point-of-fact: Luken, sitting on the ground, surrounded by healers.

  But where would Merl appear? Behind Duncan? In front of him?

  A new flow of adrenaline hit Duncan’s bloodstream.

  Merl, who’d served as a Warrior of the Blood in his own dimension decades past, as well as a grid wrecker, would hold nothing back short of slicing Duncan in two with his sword.

  Duncan moved in a slow circle, trying to prepare, his sword held wide, knees bent. Merl reappeared with his black-and-violet banded wings shimmering at the tips. A drift of grayle smoke rose from his body.

  “Fuck,” Duncan murmured. He lifted his sword as Merl levitated swiftly a few feet into the air then came down on him like lightning.

  Duncan barely blocked the strike with his own sword. And with so much Third Earth power behind the blow, Duncan fell to the ground, flat on his back, the tip of Merl’s blade pressed into the unprotected notch above Duncan’s sternum. A little more pressure would sever his windpipe, a major artery, and his spine. There’d be no coming back.

  Merl stared down at him, his wings wafting in the cool night breeze. The desert in late fall wasn’t a bad place to be, unless you were on your back with a sword at your throat.

  “You haven’t had a vision in a month,” Merl said quietly, but through gritted teeth. “And you’ve left your woman twisting in the wind. What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you see the connection? I’ll say it again, get in the game.” The resonance he added hurt Duncan’s ears.

  Merl levitated with a faint wing-flap, lifting himself backward a few feet to land on the ground. In one smooth motion, he drew in his wings. All those quick, seamless movements were an amazing demonstration of Merl’s Third power, showcasing the skills he’d been trying but failing to teach the team.

  Duncan sat up but for the moment remained where he was. He hated the arrogant bastard who’d been ordered to train them in Third Earth ways.

  Merl folded his sword away. “This team is fucked.”

  As Duncan rose to his feet, Merl faced the rest of the group. “Which one of you pansy-ass little girls wants to go one-on-one with me? Any of you?”

  “I’ll go,” Rachel called out. And before anyone could stop her, she plucked one of the daggers from her weapons harness and flung it straight at Merl’s throat.

  But instead of the blade finding home, something the entire team no doubt wanted right now, the Third Earth bastard actually caught the hilt in his hand and threw the blade to the gro
und. “Anyone else?”

  Luken called out, “Merl, back off. We’re done for the night. Everyone, hit the showers or the Ops Cave or whatever the hell you want. We’ll pick up again tomorrow evening.”

  When no one moved, he added in a hard voice, “Go.”

  Merl picked up Rachel’s dagger from the dirt and handed it to her.

  “Anything I can do to speed up my throw?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Rachel, it’s a Third Earth gift. I don’t know what Endelle was thinking creating a team of Second ascenders to do battle on Third.”

  When he moved away, Owen shoulder-blocked him. But Merl did nothing more than offer a glare before moving on.

  They were all on edge and pissed.

  Rachel didn’t have as much of a problem with Merl as the men did. Though to Merl’s credit, he no longer tried to flirt with her. Duncan and Merl had fought a few weeks back and Rachel had intervened, covering Duncan with her shield and forcing the fight to stop. He’d been out of his mind with jealousy because Merl had turned all his flirting charm toward Rachel. At least he’d stopped that shit.

  Duncan turned toward Rachel, wanting to say something to her, maybe to apologize again. But as usual, his voice shut down. All he could manage was, “Thanks for saving my ass. Again.”

  She offered a brief nod, but didn’t respond. They were hardly speaking these days unless it was a mission-oriented conversation.

  He wished she was pissed off about his having broken up with her a month ago, then he could pretend this wasn’t all his fault. Instead, she’d been womanly about the whole thing and had given him space, lots of it. No pressure. But because he was caught in the breh-hedden, the myth-that-wasn’t-a-myth, even her low-key attitude felt like an unbearable weight on his soul.

  He wished she’d yell at him. But she never had, even though he’d basically cut her off after he’d promised ‘to try’.

  As he watched Rachel fold a cloth into her hand and wipe down the blade, desire for her rose as it always did, like a hurricane within his body. She was his woman, his breh, the one destined to bond with him. And he craved her. Even though they’d dated off-and-on for decades, what he felt for her now was beyond description, an ache in his groin, his soul, a profound vibration through his sliced up heart.