Burning Skies
Burning Skies (Guardians of Ascension #2)(28)
Author: Caris Roane
The result? Critical information from the future streams, information she had always relied on to keep her administration moving forward, had been reduced to a frog’s stream of piss.
Whatever.
Which led her straight back to the conundrum of Havily Morgan. There could be only one reason why Morgan had been attacked—the future streams had revealed something of value about her.
She turned to Alison. “Do you think it’s possible that Morgan has emerging powers?”
Alison nodded. “I do. She saved a warrior’s life last night, the most physically powerful warrior in your arsenal, so yeah, I think she has emerging powers.”
Endelle stared at her and nodded. “It’s just that I’ve always been so disappointed in her. And now … shit … to have one of Greaves’s most powerful minions after her just seems bizarre. Well … I suppose I have to assign a guardian now … which means—” She laughed suddenly and slapped her hand on her thigh. “Well, I’ll be damned. There’s a silver lining after all and Marcus is sooo not gonna like what I have to tell him. Oh, this is awesome! Just too awesome!”
* * *
At seven in the morning Marcus stepped out of the shower and nearly fell on his ass. He grabbed the stone half wall and caught his balance. “What the f**k are you doing here … again? And couldn’t you have at least waited until I was dressed? What the f**k!”
Endelle looked smug as she leaned her ass against the sink counter. She wore red leather pants, black stilettos, and some kind of light-colored animal fur halter. Her gaze, as usual, settled on his groin. Her brows rose and she huffed a sigh. She folded her arms over her chest.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” He grabbed a towel and covered himself. “You already have my answer. Not coming back.”
“You might just change your tune once you hear what I have to say.”
“There isn’t anything you could say that would—”
She cut him off. “Havily was attacked last night. Big motherfucker took her vein right here.” She tilted her head and tapped two fingers over the left side of her neck. “Folded straight into her town house, death vampire by the name of Crace. He’s also the High Administrator of the Chicago Territory aligned with Greaves. Crace brought four of his buddies with him supposedly to enjoy a snack as well. Hey, but don’t worry. Medichi got there in time. Her nightgown was still in one piece and the only blood spilled was what came from her neck.”
At first he didn’t get the sensation that came over him, but his nostrils flared, his wing-locks thrummed, and sweat broke out over his entire body.
Endelle waxed on. “Havily said he had shoulders like Luken’s. And Marcus, you’re not gonna like this, but I think he meant to drink her dead. I think he brought the pretty-boys to feast.”
Time stopped. He could no longer see. For some reason his mind dove into the past, to that moment when he had seen Havily for the first time in the Cave, where the Warriors of the Blood hung out after battle. He’d been seated on that piece-of-shit, torn-up leather couch smelling her scent, her sweet honeysuckle, and his body had reacted like he’d been doing lines of Viagra.
The warriors had been grouped around Havily and parted suddenly to reveal her like a moment on a Broadway stage. The heavens had all but parted to reveal a choir of angels singing the “Hallelujah” chorus. His groin sure had. He’d gone from mildly hard to steel with a dedicated throb.
Her beauty had made his head swim, his heart ache; every longing he’d ever known had strangled his chest. Like the vampire he was, he’d craved her.
And now some death vampire had drunk from her with intent, which may or may not have been of a sexual nature. But that didn’t matter. The bastard had punctured her throat with his fangs. That was sexual enough.
His own fangs emerged to sharp pulsing points. He couldn’t seem to get enough air, but that was because he was breathing like a monster, in deep heaving gulps. His c**k had taken the shape of a missile pulling hard at the towel around his waist.
The need he felt split him into two equal parts. The first flooded the muscles of his shoulders, arms, and fists with preternatural power in search of the ascended enemy; his wing-locks were flooded with moisture, ready to release. The second part was pure sex, pure need to stake and claim what he knew by every burning cell of his body was his, belonged to him, not to any other vampire ascender or mortal in any other f**king dimension.
A single thought dominated his head: Nobody drinks from Havily but me.
Endelle had just effectively ended his two-hundred-year retreat from events on Second Earth. It was one thing to meet Havily in his dreams—or whatever the hell that was—and quite another to learn she’d been attacked, in her home, by a death vampire.
Dammit, she could have died. She probably would have if Medichi hadn’t arrived to scare the bastard out of her house.
Yet even the thought of Medichi being in Havily’s home—to come to her aid or not—sent shards of jealous rage slicing through his veins, bunching the muscles of his arms and curling his fingers into rock-solid fists.
The breh-hedden had him in a tight grip and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He couldn’t go back to his simple corporate life, to his dedicated pursuit of more and more.
And just like that, the axis of his life shifted.
When he glanced at Endelle, she still had one brow up but she was examining her fingernails. “I need a manicure.” She blinked once. Twice. Three times. “There, that’s much better.” Her nails were now neon pink.
She was the most absurd woman he’d ever known. “So you happy about this or what?” he asked.
She turned to him, her wooded eyes settling on him in unexpected compassion. “Welcome back, ass**le. Do what you have to do, then get your butt over to Havily’s and for God’s sake take care of business. Don’t be the idiot Kerrick was and wait to complete the breh-hedden. Apparently—” She paused to roll her eyes. “—your woman is valuable to the enemy.”
She lifted a hand and vanished.
Oh, shit. This couldn’t be happening but it was, and he was done trying to feel differently about his woman. He was already half in love with her for many reasons, but the breh-hedden’s call was as much on his soul as it was in his body and he simply needed to be with Havily. He didn’t try to look into the future. That she was in danger and needed him was enough.