She jerked hard as a sensation like lightning struck her body.
She expected her heart to stop working all at once, but on some level, she recognized and loved that power, knew it to be essentially all Samuel.
Some of the power shunted through her system to invade her arms and legs, but the rest began a slow, painful intrusion in the direction of her heart. Her breath came in gasps.
Vela. I can’t stop this.
I know.
Hold on.
Vela felt the power driving into her chest in fractional increments. She tried to set up a shield but failed. She tried mentally to move it elsewhere, but couldn’t.
“Sharav,” Samuel cried out. “Let her go. She’s done nothing.”
“She’s interfered and made my life difficult. We’ve lost several excellent wreckers because of her. She must die but I wanted you to be involved, to enjoy the moment, the pure poetry of it.”
Sharav then released his palm and for a split-second, Vela hoped this one act would end the stream, instead, the flow of Samuel’s power became a straight arrow toward Vela, doubling in strength.
But Sharav frowned. “She has more power than I thought, to have withstood your grayle stream this long.”
The words meant something to Vela, striking a deep chord, one that Samuel had touched on earlier, about her life and her choices, about what the death vampire attack had done to her. Somehow the answer to this brutal situation lay within those words, that she had more power than even Sharav knew and that to get out of this situation, she needed to believe in who she was, who she’d always been.
When she thought of that attack so many decades ago, a new awareness came to her, that Jeff had heard her calling to him. But that wasn’t possible because she’d screamed from her mind, a telepathic cry, and he didn’t have advanced mind-to-mind abilities. Yet that was exactly what had happened. She’d called out for help, her mind to his, directing those thoughts outside herself, and Jeff had come.
She had essentially rescued herself.
But what good would that do in this situation? She might be able to reach Endelle telepathically, but even Her Supremeness couldn’t access the Third grid or even fold to Third because the portal was sealed up tight. She was on her own.
* * * * * * * * *
Samuel couldn’t believe that he was killing the woman he loved, the thing he’d feared the most, that somehow his power would escape him and he’d murder another innocent. He just never thought it would be Vela because he’d been so careful.
And he had no control over the stream of energy, no shut-off switch.
He tried to remember how he’d stopped it while in Honduras. He remembered running, but the power still trailed from him, and reached for anything living as he ran forward. He’d become a vampire killing machine.
Duncan had escaped because he’d warned him to fold the hell out of the region, otherwise he would have died that day as well.
He’d reached the top of a hill and screamed his rage until he’d fallen unconscious. And maybe that was what he needed to do right now. He started to shout but Sharav placed a hand on his head and he couldn’t move.
“Just stay focused, just like this.”
Samuel couldn’t move, couldn’t do a damn thing.
He met Vela’s gaze and mouthed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Me, too. My fault. I was stubborn. I should have listened to you about who I am. Now it’s too late.
He agonized as his dark power streamed toward her, hurting her, driving toward her heart, seeking her death.
How he loved this woman.
He grew very still in his spirit and his thoughts took a new direction as in how he’d ended up here. What had he done wrong? Not seen?
He’d tried to avoid this exact situation, yet here he hung, the flip side of his grayle power pummeling an innocent woman. He thought he’d had a good handle on protecting those around him, by restraining his power and refusing to allow Vela to mind-dive.
He understood now that Sharav had been using him as some kind of experiment, to transform him perhaps into a Third Earth warrior that could be controlled, made into a weapon for Chustaffus or one of the other faction leaders.
As past images flowed through his mind, a shadowy figure emerged and he knew then that Chustaffus had been to Honduras Two on more than one occasion, maybe even directing the experiments. A feeling of age flowed toward him and around him as he remembered Chustaffus. An ancient evil.
He recalled Vela saying to him so recently that he had a real problem connecting and suddenly the pieces fell together in his mind. He’d refused to let her in because it seemed the safest bet, but not because of his dangerous power, but because he’d never let anyone in before, not once in his long life. His rugged man’s life had taught him to keep close connections at bay, with everyone.
And she’d been right about the Warriors of the Blood. A close knit group like that demanded connection, deeper than he’d ever had with any of the Militia Warriors, not Duncan, not Gideon, not any of them.
I want you to mind-dive, Vela.
She lifted her weary head to look at him, her breaths in shallow pants as his grayle stream pressed into her. “You want me to mind-dive?” she said aloud.
Sharav laughed. “Yes, do that Vela. Mind-dive and let all that power take out your brain.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Sharav?” Samuel asked.
“Very much. Death can be a beautiful thing to watch, a kind of thrill that never ceases to please.” A red hue colored his cheeks as he licked his lips, as if hungry for more.
Samuel turned toward the woman he loved, his breh, and then he understood what needed to be done, how he fit with Vela, how their powers could mesh, if he would only let her in. “Mind-dive, Vela. Don’t listen to him. See who I am. All of me. Just as you wanted to. Take this one last adventure.”
* * * * * * * * *
Vela could feel that Samuel’s power was only a few millimeters away from piercing the muscle of her heart.
He’d asked her to mind-dive, to take that trip within his mind that she’d been asking for, to connect with him, to be close to him.
Was Sharav right? Would his power stream into her mind and take her apart? Or would something else happen?
She would die anyway, so it didn’t matter which way she went. At the same time, Samuel seemed different and determined about allowing her to mind-dive, but it was also clear he had a reason for wanting her to do it.
“What are you waiting for,” Sharav said. “Jump into his mind.”
Then Vela got it, the real adventure she needed to take, if she had enough courage.
She recalled what had happened with Alison the night before, how Alison’s healing empathic power had flowed, easing Vela, then suddenly how Vela had comprehended Alison’s power and returned the favor.
At the time, Vela had thought she might have emerging empathic abilities, but now she understood the truth; she could join herself to another power and reflect it, perhaps even make it stronger.
Did Samuel know? Was that why he’d suggested a mind-dive?
But this wasn’t about mind-diving; it was about connecting. And Samuel was ready.
And what do you know? She wanted this adventure, too.
With the current stream of energy so close to taking her life, Vela released the last of her fears and embraced all that her powers could mean in her life. She thought about how she had reflected Alison’s healing power and with that thought, she took hold of Samuel’s grayle power, bringing it into her fully so that the stream, instead of punching through her heart, disseminated and flooded her body with tremendous strength and purpose.
Still holding Samuel’s gaze, and fully aware that Sharav had no idea what had just happened, she lifted her hands and focused Samuel’s stream of power, now greater and stronger, in Sharav’s direction.
The grayle stream hit him unprepared, and the look of horror that crossed his face as the b
last struck home, told Vela all that she needed to know.
She gave full rein to her reflective power, not hesitating for a moment, not even with the knowledge that Sharav would die because of it. He staggered on his feet, then flew backward, his eyes rolling as an anguished sound burst from his throat.
A dark mist boiled from the center of his chest.
Vela let it run until she saw that a deep cavity remained where Sharav’s ribs, lungs, and heart used to reside, the stench in the room almost overpowering.
But the moment she wanted the stream to stop, it stopped.
She stared at Sharav for a long moment, then shifted to Samuel to meet his gaze, then upward to the ropes that still bound him.
Samuel gathered his strength and began to pull. He grunted and shouted, tugging on the bindings. “We’ve got to get out of here, before a crew shows up.”
“But what about the ropes?” Her gaze traveled to the ceiling hook.
* * * * * * * * *
Samuel smiled as he started straining against the knots. “Here’s the good news. The power inherent in these bindings, belonged to Sharav, now he’s dead.”
The ropes started to snap so that within a few seconds, he’d freed himself. He crossed to Vela and ripped the rope bindings off her wrists, dragged her against his waist, and closed his eyes. He mentally sought for his sword and found it surrounded by a crew designed to salvage identified weapons. He folded the sword into his hand.
He heard running footsteps and watched as the grid wall began to close. But the opening allowed him to do a last second fold and he took them both within.
“My turn,” Vela said. She put on her best speed and the next moment raced through the darkening.
Explosions sounded behind them and not far away at all.
Can I help? he sent.
Just hold me close. That’s helping.
Samuel let his power flow, but he sensed it could do nothing to aid with her speed, so he addressed another potential problem.
Merl, he sent. We’re on our way back to your house. Sharav laid a trap, but he’s dead now. Wreckers at our heels.
Got it. Calling in reinforcements.
On through dozens of criss-crossing tunnels, Vela never failing to make instant choices.
He felt them cross the dimensional boundary, like a preternatural speed-bump.
We’re almost there, Vela sent. But another explosion hit close and debris bit at his calves.
One more tunnel.
And damn would you look at that. Where Merl’s wall used to exist, and just inside the darkening grid, stood an array of Warrior of the Blood power that not even a wrecking crew could withstand because each held one of the re-identified shotguns: Thorne, Leto, and this time, Luken, whose mere size would deter the best wrecker warrior any day.
Of course the explosions had also taken out Merl’s wall, but the bastard, standing in his living room beyond, grinned.
As Samuel and Vela passed by the What-Bees and essentially ran straight into Merl’s house, Samuel whirled and watched as a wrecking crew broke through the opposite wall. They met a hail of rapid weapon-fire as all three warriors, Luken clearly up to speed, unloaded their weapons and vaporized the enemy.
Yet even in the distance another explosion sounded as a second crew approached.
“We’ve only got a few seconds,” Vela cried out.
Merl shouted, “Move out of the grid now!”
The three warriors turned and leaped. Just as Merl started closing up the darkening wall, an explosion ripped through the air as another wrecking crew arrived, shotguns at their hips.
Vela joined Merl, this time planting a hand on his shoulder, instead of on the wall, experiencing his power and reflecting it. As the second squad fired, her power spread over the darkening wall.
Samuel watched a golden aura pass over the wall, creating a seal even as the explosion sounded from the other side.
The air vibrated strangely.
The aura wavered.
Samuel held his breath.
But the wall held.
Silence reigned for a good long moment, until Merl stepped away from the wall and turned to face the room. “We’re good.”
Vela shifted as well.
Samuel glanced from one astonished face to the other, adrenaline still flowing through every vein present and all but singing through the air.
Vela planted her hands on her hips. “Well, that was fun.”
Everyone laughed.
Samuel crossed to her and took her in his arms. His head fucking hurt, but Vela lived and right now nothing else mattered.
* * * * * * * * *
Back in Endelle’s private suite, Vela sat on Samuel’s lap in the large purple chair that faced away from the open air wall. Endelle had called the gathering to announce that for the first time in over 200 hundred years, the Warriors of the Blood would have a new member.
An hour earlier, they’d each shared their experiences with Endelle in her private office, with Thorne present as well. Endelle had made her position clear. “You’d better join up, asshole, and start working out with your new brothers, or next time you and your woman might not be so lucky. We clear?”
Samuel had surprised Vela by merely nodding. “Yes, Madame Endelle. It would be my honor to serve.”
Now they were here among a gathering of some of Second Earth’s most powerful vampires.
From her position, she could see everyone clearly, including those who ranged behind the chair in which she sat.
Even baby Helena flew from ascender to ascender, up to her antics that kept the warriors saying, “Just like her dad.”
Kerrick stood near Alison, smiling and holding his left arm in a crook for the baby to land. Apparently, they’d been teaching her boundaries but the challenges of parenting, true from the beginning of time, never ceased.
Luken, Zacharius, and Santiago addressed the real flying-baby problem, having formed a line in front of the space where a wall should have existed. Endelle had built the palace with lots of open-air balconies and no windows. Baby Helena, in true ‘like father’ mode, kept testing all three warriors, trying to find her way into the wild.
Vela watched Helena fly toward the men, but each started jumping up and down and waving his arms, which kept the toddler from moving forward. Fortunately, she grew fatigued easily, so Santiago formed an arm-crook, and Helena made another landing. She leaned her head on his arm and he spoke to her with the softest smile on his lips, as the flutter of her wings kept her balanced.
At a right angle to Vela’s position, and not far from the three un-bonded warriors, Alison stood talking quietly to Fiona, who in turn leaned against her breh, Jean-Pierre.
On the far wall, near the entrance to the room, Antony and Parisa stood together, looking fatigued since they’d just gotten back from a wings of fire demonstration in Europe Two, just outside of Paris. Antony had his arm around Parisa, holding her close. He kept dipping down and whispering things to her that made her blush. She’d then lift up, and kiss him on the lips. Even though Parisa stood five-ten in her bare feet, Antony towered over her at six-seven.
On the couch nearest Vela, Havily sat beside Marcus. They held hands, but from the time they’d entered the room, the pair had engaged in an argument about some web-campaign or other. Between clashes, however, Marcus would lift their joined fingers and plant a couple of kisses on the back of her hand that always made Havily smile.
Directly across from Vela, in a matching, warrior-sized purple chair, Grace sat on Leto’s lap, her head buried in his shoulder. She sighed several times. The breh-hedden had invaded their lives in a serious way only a month ago. The joke made the rounds often that they were on their breh-moon. From the way Leto stared at Grace, Vela knew he wasn’t thinking about anything in this room right now, maybe just how soon he could be alone with his woman.
Thorne stood guard at the door, his arms folded over his chest, his expression serious. She could almost read his mind, that h
is thoughts remained in his Command Center and with the hundreds of thousands of Militia Warriors at risk because of three rogue generals.
Thorne’s breh, Marguerite, was the only one of the group not present. But she’d put in a long day with her Seers and because she carried twins in her seventh month, she needed her rest and had begged off from the meeting.
As for Merl, he hung back, leaning against the wall a few feet beyond Luken. He occasionally drew a lit cigarette to his lips, which he held low and away. His gaze, however, rarely strayed from Endelle. Vela thought Braulio might be wise to find his way back to Second Earth, the sooner the better. To leave a woman hanging for a month, especially one like Endelle, didn’t bode well for the longevity of the relationship.
Samuel hadn’t lost physical contact with her from the time they’d been in the darkening, always holding her hand, touching her, drifting his hand up and down the center of her back. Her chest kept expanding.
Samuel had been right. She’d loved her adventurous life and the death vampire attack so many decades ago had stolen that from her. But her spirit had been reborn over the past two days through so many harrowing experiences.
She wouldn’t be a counselor; she’d made that decision. But just what would occupy her time she couldn’t say except that Endelle had just added Vela to her immediate staff as a Third Earth Liaison, duties to be defined as events unfolded.
“Because we have Vela’s future settled as well,” Endelle said, turning toward Samuel, “I think I need to make something clear to you, Warrior. We haven’t had an induction into the Warriors of the Blood since Jean-Pierre here,” she waved a hand in his direction to her left. “And that was over two-hundred-years ago. You’d better do us proud.” She then called out to Luken, “How about you take it from here.”
Luken stepped away from the balcony, moving past Endelle so that he could face Samuel. Kerrick shifted back into position next to Santiago, to make sure his daughter didn’t escape.
Luken was the biggest of all the warriors and had a tenderness unsurpassed, for a man built for war. His crystal blue eyes never looked less than haunted and Vela knew his gaze skated everywhere struggling hard not to land on Havily, who he’d loved from the time of her Ascension over a hundred years ago. Luken was a good man, a worthy man, former European Two royalty, and wore his long blond hair, like all the What-Bees did, caught back in the cadroen.