Obsidian Flame (Guardians of Ascension #5)(50)
Author: Caris Roane

He put his hands on her face and slid them deep into her hair. He didn’t blink. “This isn’t what I wanted,” he said. The heavy bouquet of his wine scent buckled her knees.

She groaned and then his tongue was in her mouth, deep, so deep. He drove into her and then his body was pressed up against hers, moving in a fluid, snake-like motion, utterly sexual, reminiscent of her poetry.

Grace, he whispered through her mind. I need you so badly, desperately. I need you to come with me, to come home with me and live with me, to be my wife and a mother to my two small boys. Say you will come.

She wanted to. She felt that everything he had just asked of her was her destiny, her calling.

She drew back ready to tell him yes, but from deep within her mind she heard another voice, a woman’s voice, one that had been as familiar as her own for the past hundred years.

Can you feel my presence, Grace? I’m here in the Convent. Thorne is here, too. You’re in danger. I’m going to fold into your cell right now, so don’t be frightened.

She pulled out of Casimir’s arms.

Danger?

She glanced around her at a strange moving partition in the small cell. The mist that had created a division in the room, separating her from Leto, began to move. Casimir grabbed her and pulled her in the direction of the door.

Still no Leto. And no Marguerite.

Goddammit. Marguerite’s voice was within her mind, as well as one of her favorite words. Where are you? Are you still in the room?

Once more, Grace felt the vibration at her feet and the power surged up through her body. I’m near the door.

But Casimir drew her against him and inhaled at her temple. “You smell of the earth and this power of yours is so erotic. Come with me.”

She felt a movement of air next to her and Marguerite was suddenly there in a blood-red flight suit. She at first didn’t know what to say, but it was Marguerite who turned to Casimir and said, “Why is it I hear church bells when you’re around?”

“You can hear them?” Grace asked.

Marguerite nodded.

Grace glanced at Casimir. “So do I. And you’re the source?”

Casimir shrugged, a slight lifting of his shoulders. “One of ascension’s little jokes.” She felt very confused by what was happening and even though Marguerite spoke of danger, that wasn’t what she felt or intuited. Instead she continued to experience a pressing need to be with the dark vampire in front of her.

Grace shifted her attention to Marguerite. “What did you mean, I’m in danger?”

Marguerite’s large brown eyes opened wide. “This ass**le is here to destroy Leto, or didn’t he tell you that? He’s also here to take you away, to take you to Paris One, to live with him, to never see your friends or your brother again, or the Convent.”

Grace turned to him. “Yes, he said as much. I feel drawn to you, a sense that I must be with you, but I can only go on one condition.”

“I’m not fond of conditions. You should know that about me. I prefer to rule in my own small petty way. But tell me your condition.”

“That Leto be allowed to live.”

He laughed. “No. Non-negotiable, as is your coming with me or not. You will come with me and then you will come with me, repeatedly.” She’d been married. She didn’t mistake his meaning. He continued, “You will learn to love your life and I already know some of your tenderness. I believe you will come to love my sons. They are very young and miss their mother, who died recently. As for all this repression”—he swept an arm to encompass the cell, most of which was still hidden behind the shifting swirling mist—“today, you will leave that behind as well.”

“I will not go with you.” She backed up. “Not if Leto dies.” She felt torn, ripped apart inside. She felt drawn to this difficult man as much as she was drawn to Leto, as though both men were intended for her, as though somehow their fates were inextricably linked together. To lose one was to lose the other. Here was a great mystery.

He moved into her fast and put his arms around her. But Marguerite did the same thing from behind, her arms wrapped tightly around Grace’s waist.

She felt Casimir’s fourth dimension power. She felt herself begin to leave, to fold, right out of Marguerite’s tight grasp.

But suddenly the vibration beneath her feet, that power that came from the earth, increased, flowing in a new, heavier wave up and up. At the same time, this earth-based power recognized Marguerite. That was the only way Grace could explain the meeting of Marguerite’s power with her power.

When the two touched, Casimir’s attempt to fold her out of the Convent ceased as well. Her feet landed back on the stone and Casimir flew away from her, slamming against the wood door of the cell. He looked down at his arms as though they were burned. He was breathing hard, his dark eyes wide.

Then he stared at Grace and murmured “no” in a long slow sweep of air.

She felt Marguerite shift to stand beside her. She met the woman’s surprised stare. “Did you feel that?”

Grace nodded.

“But what was it?”

Grace shook her head. “I’m not sure yet. It emerged yesterday for the first time and helped me bring Leto out of Moscow. Greaves had discovered that Leto was a spy and meant to have him killed. But … just now, while you were touching me, the power grew stronger, as though it recognized you. Did you feel it?”

“Hell, yes, I did.” She glanced at Casimir. “Surprise, ass**le.”

“Grace, you must listen to me,” Casimir cried. She turned to meet his eyes, which were almost wild. “You’re obsidian flame, the third leg of the triad. Now you must come with me. I’m the only one who can protect you.”

Grace shook her head. “Obsidian flame? I don’t think so.” But even as the words left her mouth, from deep within she felt the call, heard the whisper, obsidian flame.

Now she understood. Over the last few weeks, her wings had changed from a predominantly light blue with a smattering of black dots toward the base of each, to blue with a black flame marking. Obsidian. Flame.

She said as much to Casimir, adding, “But Sister Quena said it was the mark of the devil.”

Casimir drew close once more, although this time he held his hands up as if in surrender. “Grace, please listen to me. Greaves intended for you to die today. He will not let obsidian flame stand. If you want to live, you must come with me.”

In a very swift movement, he lifted his arm and before she could protest, the mist shifted a third time, separating her from Marguerite and forging a new barrier in a diagonal through the room. What choice did Grace have now?