Burning Skies (Guardians of Ascension #2)(54)
Author: Caris Roane

“Shall I pour two glasses?” Parisa asked.

“Perfect. I would like to sit with you for a while anyway just to make sure your overall incomprehensible comfort with Second Earth remains.”

“I’d like that,” Parisa responded.

When Marcus didn’t protest, didn’t demand, that she join him in bed, she knew she’d been right in her assessment of him. She took him in the direction of the guest rooms directly across from the library. She opened the door on the left. She thought he would appreciate the heavy masculine feel of this particular room, with the massive four-poster bed, a tapestry of a deer hunt hanging over a black-leather-encased headboard, and burgundy velvet falling to the floor from an enormous gold-leaf cornice high above the tapestry.

The rest of the furniture matched the bed—an antique armoire where she’d hung their clothes, a large chest of drawers opposite the bed in which she’d put miscellaneous articles, and three-foot-square end tables.

The window on the east wall overlooked a large stretch of sun-loving lawn, now shrouded in moonlight, and beyond that, rising in the distance, the White Tanks Mountains. Five miles away on the other side of the mountains, White Lake and at least a hundred hotels formed one of Second Earth’s premier spectacle sites.

Marcus headed for the en suite bathroom but paused at the doorway, planting a hand on the frame for support. He looked back at her, his brows slashed in concern once more. “You’ll let me know if we need to take Parisa back to Mortal Earth. We could stay at my place on Bainbridge. I’m sure Endelle would lend us her mist for the duration if needed.”

She smiled, “All right, Hercules. I’ll let you know.”

Marcus smiled, just a little crookedly off the side of his mouth. “That poser?” But he laughed and went into the bathroom.

Havily smiled. Marcus was Sumerian in origin. Of course he would disparage Greek or Roman mythological characters. Havily had seen the advent of electricity during her youth a few decades ago, but Sumer was credited with having developed the wheel. Her mind boggled.

Shaking her head, she left the bedroom then returned to Parisa. She once more asked the mortal how she felt.

“Just a little tired, but you have to remember, I worked all day at the library, then I released my wings … twice, which always fatigues me. After that, I kept running up the stairs and launching from the railing. I must have made two dozen flights if I count both times together.”

She smiled as she continued, “Oh, and then I met ascenders from another dimension, then I was almost attacked by a really crazed-looking, uh, vampire. And now I’m here. So, yes, I’m tired.” But she swirled her dark red wine in her goblet and her smile broadened. Medichi preferred Cabernet. She lifted the goblet. “This wine is excellent, by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the label but I like the wings, nice touch.”

“That’s Antony’s label.” Havily shook her head, stunned by Parisa’s apparent immunity to the effects of Second Earth. “I have to say, you don’t seem to be experiencing any ill effects from being on Second, almost as though … well, it doesn’t matter.” She took the other goblet, a third full of the dark red wine. She sighed. “How wonderful this looks.”

She sat with Parisa, drinking wine, for what seemed like a long time, long enough for the front-yard automatic sprinklers to come on.

But when Parisa yawned, Havily said, “I hate to ask you this again, but I need to know if you’re sure you’re all right. Really, Parisa. Twenty-four hours on Second Earth is lethal for mortals. And Marcus said he would take us to his home on Mortal Earth if that’s what we need.”

Parisa took a deep breath. She frowned again. “I truly feel fine. I’m just tired, like I said. Otherwise I have these tendrils of euphoria floating around in my chest. I can’t explain it but … I love being here.”

Havily thought of Marcus. That was exactly how she felt when she was near him, as though tendrils of euphoria floated around in her chest. “Well, how about we get you to bed. I’ve put you in the room opposite Marcus and myself.” She couldn’t repress the blush that touched her cheeks. The thought that they were acting like a couple made her really uncomfortable. After all, what did she really know about Marcus or the other way around? “If you start feeling ill at all, you can knock on our door and we can get you back to Mortal Earth right away.”

Parisa nodded then rose to her feet. She held her goblet up. “I should wash these out.”

“No, you shouldn’t. I’ll take care of them as soon as I have you settled in your room.”

She led her to the guest room opposite then showed her where she’d put the clothes she’d lent her and the sleep gear plus the extra girl-stuff she would need. Parisa thanked her profusely then gave a little cry when she saw the black silk nightgown draped across the bed. “I have this exact same one.”

“La Perla?”

Parisa nodded.

Havily laughed. “I knew you had excellent taste.” As she met Parisa’s laughing amethyst eyes, she had the strangest feeling she’d just made a friend, a good friend.

She returned to the library, picked up the goblets, then headed to the kitchen. She thought of Marcus sleeping in the bed they would be sharing and a shiver of anticipation ran through her. Ascenders healed fast, but how fast could he recover from a searing blade wound?

Well, she supposed she would find out.

For now, though, she had wine to put away and goblets to wash.

* * *

Marcus awoke to a dip in the bed and a sigh. He felt Havily adjust the covers very slowly as though trying not to wake him, but he was awake. He wasn’t sure he’d even been asleep partly because he was still a little sore but also because he needed her in bed with him. He couldn’t relax if she was anywhere else in the house. He needed to know she was safe. “She okay?” he asked, worried about Parisa as well.

A pause then a short sigh. “She’s right across the way. I’ve instructed her to wake me if she feels in any way distressed by being here.”

“Good. Now come closer and please don’t tell me you put a nightgown on.”

“How can you be wounded and still barking orders?”

He smiled.

He faced the window. Lace drapes showed dim landscaping lights in the distance, and through a couple of swirls he could actually see stars in the night sky, one or two since the skyline of the White Tanks was a dark distant presence.