Burning Skies (Guardians of Ascension #2)(53)
Author: Caris Roane

Oddly, his thoughts turned to Leto. During the past decades, the former warrior had developed some serious skills. He knew Alison was capable of throwing physical shields like that but he hadn’t known Leto could, which made him wonder. Leto had fought Alison in an arena battle four months ago, a terrible engagement that Greaves had orchestrated and COPASS had supported. Alison had won that contest against Leto by casting a similar shield around herself. So why hadn’t Leto done the same? Why had he put himself in Alison’s power? Leto hadn’t held back during the actual battle with swords, and more than once Marcus had been sure Alison would get skewered before she even ascended to Second Earth. Leto couldn’t have faked his intent to make her dead.

But he had held back at least some of his powers. That much was clear, which led Marcus back to the shield Leto had constructed around himself while in Parisa’s courtyard. And what had Leto meant by issuing a warning about the Ambassadors Festival? After all these decades, was Leto having second thoughts about having aligned himself with Greaves?

Well, at least Medichi was in charge of delivering the message to Endelle, who in turn would know exactly what to do with the information. Not his problem. His problem was next to him cleaning blood off a wood floor.

When all the pain in his abdomen, front and back, disappeared, and when Horace sat back on his heels, Marcus put a hand to his side. He pushed gingerly, astonished as always at what the man could do. He sat up then rose to his feet, but damn—all he felt was the slightest twinge.

Horace hopped up as well and planted a hand on his shoulder. “A good night’s sleep will put you right.” He then drew his pager from his pant pocket. He arched a brow. “Looks like I’m headed to Awatukee. Santiago got a burn on his arm.”

Marcus looked at Havily, who passed behind him carrying the bucket and all the rags back in the direction of the kitchen. He thought about Parisa still in the house, still under his protection. His warrior instincts were strong and he didn’t like the idea of Santiago in the desert by himself, a new wave of death vampires probably on the way. He almost offered his help, but he had two women with him and no way of really knowing that Greaves wouldn’t put together a new plan to come after them.

He therefore repressed the urge to draw his sword once more into his hand and tell Horace to lead the way. Even so, the words left his mouth in a rush: “Anything I can do?”

At that, Horace met his gaze, his warm brown eyes smiling. “Still a warrior, I see, but no. Your job is here.”

Marcus nodded several times. “Right.”

“Be well, Warrior,” Horace said. He lifted his arm and vanished.

Havily returned to the foyer, bucket and rags gone. She nodded in the direction of the southern half of the villa. “I folded some of your things here for you to use, you know, from my town house. Let me show you to your bedroom.”

He stopped her, taking hold of her arm harder than he meant to. “Our bedroom. You’re sleeping with me.”

* * *

Havily stared at a determined slash of dark eyebrows over very intense light brown eyes. These warriors, she thought, always ready to fight, even about sleeping arrangements.

“Yes,” she said, agreeing with him so maybe he could relax a little. “Fine. Our bedroom. But just FYI, I intended to share your bed tonight anyway, because in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only one caught up in this ridiculous, obsessive, frustrating, oh-my-God-you-smell-like-fennel myth.”

The fingers on her arm gentled and a smile softened some of his intensity. “Good. That’s good.” He nodded.

She didn’t know whether to kiss him or hit him, which frustrated her all over again. “You’ll want a shower and I’ll need to get Parisa settled. I’m putting her close, across the hall from us.”

“Wait a minute. Shit, I totally forgot. How long has she been here? Has it been an hour? Two? We need to get her back to Mortal Earth but where is she going to be safe? Shit, shit, shit.”

“Uh … that may not be an issue.”

“Why? You know ascendiates can only tolerate Second Earth for a limited time. You know that. I heard even Alison felt dizzy after two hours, and her powers approached Endelle’s levels.”

“Well, what can I say. Parisa has wings and she’s not the usual mortal. But you should probably see her for yourself.” She led him to the second smaller central hall and to the arched doorway of the library. But the dark brown hair of the ascendiate was all that was visible, her head tilted slightly. Asleep, maybe or perhaps unconscious because of being on Second Earth? Had she erred? “Parisa?”

The head bobbed. Parisa jumped to her feet, holding a small leather volume in her hand. “Pride and Prejudice,” she announced. “Isn’t this amazing? It’s a really early edition. I think the first edition was in three volumes but still—”

Marcus tugged on her arm. “Okay. Exactly how long has she been here?”

Parisa glanced around the library, her gaze landing off to her left. She turned back to them. “I’ve been here two hours and fifteen minutes.”

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Really good but it’s the weirdest feeling. I have to say, I’m a little giddy.”

“Dizzy?” Havily asked, concerned all over again.

“No, not at all, just really happy.”

Havily turned to him. “See what I mean? I noticed it earlier. Not even a hint of lethargy or anything.”

“Is there a problem?” Parisa asked.

“Not exactly. It’s just that you shouldn’t be able to handle being here, in this dimension, since you’re still unascended. Usually by now a mortal would feel exhausted, dizzy, sometimes nauseous.”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel any of those things. Is there something wrong with me?”

Havily smiled. “You’re an anomaly, that’s all.”

At that, Parisa grinned then rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s all.”

Havily felt Marcus sway into her, just a slight lean, then he righted himself. She glanced at him, noting that his complexion was still a little pale. She turned once more to address Parisa. “I’m putting our savior here to bed then I’ll be back and we can talk. Okay?”

“Yes. That would be great.”

“If you feel like it, Warrior Medichi has some excellent red wine in the kitchen, in a tall rack at the end of one of the counters. I know he would want you to feel at home, so if you’re inclined…”