Obsidian Flame (Guardians of Ascension #5)(24)
Author: Caris Roane

And now Thorne was gone.

The ultimate warrior.

The man she’d always counted on.

She once more rubbed the little lumps on the starfish’s back, but she stared now at nothing in particular, her heart aching. Her emotions were all over the place as well, but they seemed to revolve around two specific poles; one that was pure grief, like now, and the other so filled with fury that she’d nearly lost her mind with rage.

Jean-Pierre left his humping position on the branch and sat down on the glass floor behind Fiona. He surrounded her with his long legs so that she could lean easily against his chest.

This couple’s relationship had traveled light-years since they’d completed the breh-hedden about three weeks ago.

The goddamn breh-hedden, that really infuriating vampire mate-bonding ritual that had half her warriors in heat—and now Thorne had been struck down as well. He’d been so out-of-his-mind that for the first time in two thousand years he’d actually abandoned his post.

Jean-Pierre wrapped Fiona up in his arms, which caused her to turn her head slightly and kiss him just over his vein. Endelle saw the faint puncture marks of a recent tap.

She looked away. For some reason this display of tenderness and intimacy was a shard straight through her heart. Maybe she was just missing Thorne, but damn she felt lonely. She hadn’t realized how her ability to reach him day or night with just a thought had kept her feeling not just secure but connected as well. Since he’d left, she’d been like a ship without a rudder. She was getting damn sick of the feeling, like she’d begun moving in endless circles.

“Thorne needs to get his ass back here.”

Jean-Pierre nodded. “We all feel it as a terrible loss. I did not realize how much we depended on him. Zach and Santiago are having a war of their own, and even Kerrick got into a very big fight with Luken. Thorne is a leader of men, it is as simple as that.”

“He kept me grounded.”

“Oui. All of us, I think. We are missing him very much.”

“And now Greaves is making a show of his army to the world.”

“Were you with Marcus when you got word of the spectacle?”

“Oh, yeah. He put a hole in the wall. I’ve never seen him quite that enraged. He was moving around so erratically that Havily suddenly folded into the space demanding to know what was going on and why his hand hurt.”

The completion of the breh-hedden had one telling feature: Each partner could experience the other partner’s external physical sensations. When Marcus had punched the wall, Havily had felt it as well.

“That must have been awful for her,” Fiona said. She held tightly to Jean-Pierre’s arms. “When he fights, I have to close down the sensations or I’m not able to sleep at all.”

“Yeah, Havily was pretty upset. Hell, we all were. To show his military strength to the world? Shit.”

“Mon dieu. We are so f**ked.”

“You got that right.”

“Greaves is a madman,” Jean-Pierre muttered.

“Yeah, well, at the very least he’s insane. His current line of propaganda goes something like, ‘The war has been nothing but a misunderstanding,’ and he ‘hopes for a permanent resolution by the winter solstice.’ Imagine, the ‘winter solstice.’ Isn’t that the most beautiful new-age crap you’ve ever heard?

“He’s invited COPASS to attend as well. Apparently, most of the committee members have accepted his invitation. And did you hear the latest, that COPASS members are being granted British-style forms of address and corresponding ranks? Even Harding, that prick of pricks, must now be addressed as my Lord Asshole?”

“Are you shitting me?” Jean-Pierre said. But because shitting sounded like sheeting, all she could do was smile. She wanted him to say it again. His accent could melt ice in ten-below weather.

That Fiona kissed his neck again didn’t surprise Endelle, but she got the feeling by the way he looked at his breh that Endelle would have to fold out of this weird tree room or she’d have another kind of spectacle to watch.

As she rose to her feet, the knitted throw and a bunch more bits of snail shell fell to the floor. Before she could reach for the throw, Fiona folded it into her arms. She’d only recently completed her ascension, and she practiced her folding skills any chance she got.

“We’re going to lose more High Administrators because of the review. Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time.” She glanced at Fiona. “You’ll tell me if Marguerite contacts you?”

She nodded. “Of course.” Fiona then reached out and touched her arm. “Thorne will come home soon. Don’t worry.”

But her heart plummeted again. Jesus, if she didn’t get the hell out of this place, she’d start weeping onto her starfish boobs, and like hell she was going to do that.

Fuck Thorne, anyway, for taking his little goddamn breh-hedden holiday on Mortal Earth.

With that, she lifted her arm and folded back to her palace.

She needed to be alone for a while before she returned to HQ.

How can a traitor ever redeem his actions?

He can’t.

—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth

Chapter 6

Darian Greaves, the Commander of the Ascenders Liberation Army, protector of the disenfranchised, soon-to-be leader of two worlds, approached the first of two enormous transport cages. He wore a fur hat, necessary over his bald head. The Russian spring was very cold, especially since it was nearly ten at night. His nostrils sparked when he breathed. The rehearsal had been going on since one in the afternoon and would probably continue until the early hours of the morning, although the DNA-altered swans and geese that had been trained to fly in squadrons had already been sent to their designated resting grounds for the night.

The white tigers within the cages were restless, pacing back and forth. He kept them hungry because hunger put them in motion, a very consistent law of nature.

He understood the concept extremely well. He had been hungry his entire adult life.

He patted the side of the cage and the tiger sprang at him, screaming and slashing.

Good. These cats would make an excellent part of the spectacle parade. He had one goal: intimidation, implied threat. He wanted all the Territories of Second Earth to understand that he would punish severely any who did not align with him before the final battle took place.

His Seers were working hard on his behalf, as well they should. The military review spectacle looked very favorable in the future streams. The several he’d viewed telepathically through one of his more advanced Mumbai Seers had shown the exact level of magnificence he’d been hoping for.