Born of Ashes (Guardians of Ascension #4)(67)
Author: Caris Roane

Right.

In as few words as possible, she told Marguerite what her previous experiences had been like with Alison and Jean-Pierre.

Got it. Let’s do it.

Fiona kept backing up, since both death vampires had gained their feet and looked really pissed off. At the same time, she remained focused on Marguerite, on the level of power that had begun vibrating between the two women.

I’m holding in my mind that I want to fold, Marguerite sent. Can you feel it?

Yes. Oh, God. We gotta do this now. I think Rith is winding up for a hand-blast.

Picture where you want to go, Fee.

Fiona released her fears and pictured the landing platform at Militia HQ. She closed her eyes and—what do you know, the glide began. She sped through nether-space, relief hitting her like a flash flood during a monsoon storm.

The next moment, she was staring at five Militia Warriors, all with swords drawn. “It’s just me,” she cried. “But we might have incoming.”

One of the Militia Warriors blurred toward her, caught her arm, then pulled her behind him.

She moved toward the back wall then waited. The warriors all stood, facing the platform, swords still drawn, bodies hunched.

Seconds passed.

No one came. Her heart was still racing, but she was here and she was safe.

Did it work, Fee?

Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, Marguerite! You saved my life!

Good, but I’m signing off. If Stannett figures out that you and I can communicate, he might put me someplace even worse.

Okay, but thank you! I won’t forget this … ever!

Fee, I may ask for a favor one day.

Anything, sister. Anything!

Gotta go.

Fiona felt the telepathic thread snap at the very end, like a hang-up. She drew in a deep breath.

She had another message to send. Jean-Pierre, I’m at the landing platform.

Within the space of a heartbeat, he folded next to her and immediately he was touching her arms, her legs, her hips, then back up to touch the sides of her head, then down to her neck. He kept asking her things in French.

“Anglais, chéri,” she finally said.

He huffed a laugh. “Are you all right? How did you get back? I could not reach you. Where did he take you? Was it Rith?”

She shook her head. “It was our friend from Copán. The Upper ascender. His name is Casimir. But Rith was there and two death vampires.”

“Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, mon Dieu.” Another string of French followed until he caught himself and reverted to English. “Where did you go? Where did he take you?”

She kept her explanation brief, dwelling on how Marguerite, the newly avowed second leg of their obsidian flame triad, had helped her channel a fold in order to escape.

She met his gaze. “Jean-Pierre, they intended to kill me. If I hadn’t been practicing my channeling ability, I’d be dead.”

He nodded, a brisk series of nods, then dragged her into his arms. “Merde,” he said, one slap of French profanity against her ear. Finally, he added, “But you found your way out. You did this, Fiona. You embraced your power, you kept your head very clear, and you did this impossible thing. Thank you, chérie, more than words can express for coming back to me.”

* * *

Casimir shouted a string of profanities into the cavern. He might have begun the abduction with a casual attitude but by the time he’d ordered the death vamps to finish her off, he wanted nothing more than to eliminate this emerging and terrifying obstacle to his plans.

He’d been so close to seeing her killed. The swords had been spinning in Fiona’s direction—then suddenly her power was just there, an enormous wave of energy. He’d been slammed against the wall of rock. Several of his ribs were broken, which was no doubt what had happened to the others as well.

But each of them had self-healed and he’d already sent the death vampires back to their lair in Geneva, Mortal Earth.

Rith sat on the floor, a hand to the back of his neck.

Casimir stared at him. He and Greaves had already discussed the next step in this journey, for all of them. Rith would have a new role. First he would deliver an invitation to Fiona and her warrior, then he would be delivered elsewhere by Endelle’s faction to hopefully initiate Greaves’s worldwide publicity campaign against Rith-the-scapegoat.

At least in that sense Caz would know some relief.

The man’s smell really did irritate the hell out of him.

He folded an extra-large dog crate into the cavern.

“As soon as you’re healed, Greaves wants you to crawl inside. It’s time we moved our plans forward.”

Rith dropped both hands to his lap and smiled at Casimir. “Just remember what I have said to you. The future streams have been very clear about your future. No, I did not say that correctly. The future streams say you do not have a future.”

Caz wasn’t a Fourth ascender for nothing. He knew that the future was like a prism catching light—and that light split apart and bounced in every direction imaginable. “You don’t get to be my age, ass**le, without learning to ignore the future streams.”

But Rith just laughed at him then crawled inside the cage.

* * *

Fiona had her arm around Jean-Pierre’s waist, her hand on his chest, and her face turned into his shoulder.

Seriffe and at least ten more Militia Warriors stood near the landing platform, all with swords drawn.

She was calmer now. Several minutes had passed since her arrival at Militia HQ, but she didn’t want to leave the landing platform area just yet. Jean-Pierre had asked her twice if she wanted to retire to the room they had been using for practice, but she shook her head. For just a moment, she wanted to stay here, feel the heat and strength of his body.

She kept replaying the brief terrifying abduction over and over in her mind. Each time she would come to the moment when she dove inside what she had come to think of as her golden rush of power, and she would marvel at what lived inside her, what existed deep inside her.

She had power now, something she could tap, something she could use to make herself safe, something she could possibly use to keep others safe as well. She looked up into Jean-Pierre’s face. Maybe she could even keep him safe as well?

The snakes that writhed in the bottom of her stomach stopped moving, then shriveled to the size of peas—then simply vanished. She had done this thing today. Through her own effort, she had escaped another horrible abduction and now she was back with her man. Maybe she could have a life on Second Earth, a real life. Maybe, just maybe she had sufficient power to stay alive and to live.