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Wings of Fire


Parisa wondered if there would ever come a time when she would stand anywhere near Madame Endelle and not want to either cringe beneath her hard gaze, or scream at her. She was the hardest woman she had ever known. The warriors both feared and loved her. And she was tall, taller even than Antony when she wore her stilettos. And she always wore stilettos.


She sported cowhide today. Not fine leather, but actual hide in squares of brown and white, alternating like a checkerboard. The skirt was short and stiff, bristly. Parisa never knew what to make of the woman’s fashion choices.


She resisted the urge to pet the hide.


The strange piece was offset with a soft brown suede vest, cut deep so that four inches of cleavage showed. She had muscular arms. Had she not been Supreme High Administrator of Second Earth, Parisa thought Endelle could have served as a Warrior of the Blood.


Looking up at the formidable woman, Parisa asked, “Have there ever been any female Warriors of the Blood?”


Endelle’s brows rose. “What do you think?”


“I suppose not, but what about Luchianne? She was the first vampire. Was she warrior status? I’m told you knew her.”


Endelle shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it, I suppose. I knew the woman nine thousand years ago.” She squinted her ancient lined eyes as she looked into the past. “She wasn’t as tall as me but she bested Alison. Maybe six foot two. She came out of Sumer, or at least that region. Marcus came out of Sumer as well but he was born millennia after Luchianne’s ascension to the Upper Dimension. So what the hell did you want, Parisa? I take it you didn’t demand an audience just to discuss ascension history?” Endelle always sounded, even in conversation, just this side of angry.


Parisa told her about Rith.


Endelle glanced at Antony. “You didn’t kill the bastard?”


Antony explained about the trace block that Rith had employed at both the Toulouse farmhouse and now his own villa.


She glanced at Parisa and scowled. “Shit. He folded through my mist. And he folded straight to you. Shit.” Her scowl deepened as she continued to stare at Parisa. She also nodded several times. “So let me understand you, vampire. So far, you’ve escaped Rith by cutting him with your dagger while in France and today by dematerializing?”


“Yes.”


“Both times you got lucky.”


“I would have to agree with you.”


Endelle grimaced and cocked her head. She wore a headband that bore an assortment of brown feathers angled into the air, pheasant maybe. If they’d been arranged to stand straight up, Parisa thought the headpiece came shockingly close to images of Native American culture.


Her Supremeness continued, “How the hell were you able to dematerialize when you’ve only been ascended about half a minute? I mean, I could do that when I ascended, but then I’m, well, me.”


Parisa shrugged. “How the hell did I have wings on Mortal Earth?”


At that, Endelle laughed. “You know, your speech patterns have changed. You used to be rather stiff in the ass. You’re loosening up. I think that’s a good thing. Medichi good in bed? Is that why you seem so different? Does he satisfy you? He should. He’s hung like a horse.”


Parisa’s mouth opened and stayed that way. Her cheeks flamed.


“Endelle, for Christ’s sake,” Antony cried.


Endelle rolled her eyes. “Creator, save me from prudes.” She turned around and leaned against the railing. She cast her gaze up and up. “I love the White Tanks. They just do it for me. The contour of the entire mountain range is goddamn breathtaking.”


Parisa slid her gaze up Endelle’s profile. She really was a great beauty even though it was hidden most of the time behind her sailor’s mouth. She had lovely olive skin and features reminiscent of an Arabian princess. She should have been draped in lovely silks instead of cowhide and feathers.


Parisa gave herself a shake. She was here for a reason. Focus. “I don’t know what to do. If Rith can get onto the villa grounds then he’ll find a way to enthrall me again.”


Endelle nodded. “Is Medichi still training you? Are you flying much?”


“We were going to do that after we talked to you.” Her thoughts whipped to Fiona, and she turned to Antony abruptly. “What time is it?”


Antony drew his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “It’s been half an hour.”


“What the hell,” Endelle cried. “Do you have someplace better to be? Am I fucking boring you?”


Parisa couldn’t help it. She laughed. “I’m sorry but you’re so funny.”


That wasn’t the right thing to say. The pheasant-like feathers lifted straight up. Parisa added quickly, “I’ve been voyeuring Fiona, quick snapshots, to see the sky in the window above her bed.” She explained about the search grid.


The feathers eased down and Endelle’s brows rose. “Well, damn, ascender, you’ve got a brain in that pretty head of yours. Not half bad.” She narrowed her gaze and appeared to be thinking. After a moment, she said, “Okay, keep up with the weapons training. The more you know about how to use your dagger, the better.” She looked past Parisa to Antony. “I think we should set up some Militia Warriors to serve as guards around the property as well. Rith isn’t a fighter, so he’ll be less likely to try to take Parisa if there are warriors everywhere. When I get back to the office, I’ll give Seriffe a shout. Also, why don’t you set up a telepathic link with Parisa? That way she can reach you instantly.”


Parisa put a hand to her chest and stared once more into the sunken garden—anywhere but at Antony or Endelle. Paths meandered from one to the other, crisscrossing. Tourists walked to and fro.


A teenager, wearing baggy pants, stripped off his T-shirt and mounted his wings. He flew in the lumbering pattern of youth all the way to the top of the hill. A voice came over the loudspeaker. “There is no mounting of wings in the garden. Retract immediately or we’re sending security in.”


The teenager, now standing next to a teen girl, lifted his hand in a one-fingered salute, but he drew his wings in then put his arms around the girl. Parisa smiled. At least some things hadn’t changed on Second Earth. It all seemed so normal. There was that word again … normal. There was nothing normal about a vampire trying to abduct her … again.


She looked back at Antony. He frowned at her and she could probably guess at his thoughts since they’d so recently had a fight about this very thing, about how he thought they should get closer as in complete the breh-hedden and how she didn’t. Yes, it might make it safer but she didn’t want to be that close to Antony, or anyone, much less share what amounted to a Vulcan mind meld.


“So do you think this is a good idea?” she asked. “A telepathic link?”


He smiled but it was crooked and maybe just a little bitter. “Yep. It means that we could communicate telepathically over long distances.”


“We do that anyway,” she said. “I called to you from Burma, remember?”


“This is different, a solid connection, a link. No one else could break it or interfere. With ordinary telepathy, someone could cut off our conversation. That wouldn’t be possible with a mind-link.”


“What the hell is the problem, ascender Lovejoy?” Endelle cried. “Why are you resisting this? You need a fucking link to Warrior Medichi. EOS. It’s also like GPS. He’ll know your location without needing you to send a mental image and don’t frown at me. Just do it. Damn, I’m so sick of the whining. Do you want to live or not? Huh? Answer me that, because it’s a goddamn simple question.”


One thing about Endelle, she could boil an issue down in two or three sentences. Did she want to live? Yes. Did she want a mind-link with Antony? No. It meant intimacy and it felt like she was being forced into yet another box.


“Fine,” she muttered. “But I’m not happy about this.”


Endelle snorted again. “Who the hell cares if you’re ‘happy’ or not?” She made air quotes.


“There’s something else,” Parisa said. “And it might even interfere with a telepathic link.”


Endelle met her gaze. “I can’t even begin to imagine what would interfere with a mind-link.”


“A voyeur-link.”


Endelle moved her head back and forth slowly. “What the hell is a voyeur-link?”


“I think Greaves created a link with me when I was in Burma.” She told her about Greaves’s visit, about the kiss, about dropping her shields, and waking up on the grass. “The thing is, whenever I opened my voyeur window from that moment on, I would experience pain, sharp pain. Lately it’s gotten better, and now after a few seconds it disappears but I suspect that’s because Greaves is trying to be discreet.”


Endelle was nodding. “Which would explain why there were so many death vamps waiting at the Toulouse house.”


“Exactly. I’ve experimented with it, but I was wondering. Since you’re so powerful, could you see if I’m right? Could you search my mind for that kind of link and break it?”


“The author of a mind-link has to break it.”


“That’s what Antony said but I’d still like you to see what’s going on.”


Endelle sighed. “You’ll have to lower your shields. All the way. Can you do that or do I have to kiss you, too?” Her lips actually curved. So besides cursing, and wearing outrageous clothes, Endelle could sometimes make a halfway decent joke. Nice.


At that, Parisa laughed. “No,” she said, still smiling. “For you, I’ll lower my shields.”


“Huh,” Endelle said. “Looks like you might even trust me a little.”


Parisa shrugged. “Maybe a little.”


Endelle just shook her head. “You’re one stubborn female, but I’ll admit you’ve got some potential.”


Endelle put her hands on Parisa’s face. Parisa closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let her shields fall, all the way.

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