Wings of Fire (Guardians of Ascension #3)(37)
Author: Caris Roane

She stood in front of Endelle listening to the careful words she read from a large ceremonial book that she held open in both hands. It detailed the terms of ascension: the necessity of service, the nature of which would be dictated by the Supreme High Administrator; the careful standards of Second Society; and the vows to abstain from committing the most heinous act of partaking of dying blood.

Was she really going to do this? Was she really leaving her old world on Mortal Earth behind?

She watched Endelle’s lips move but she really couldn’t hear her. Her fingers shook so badly, she had to ball her hands into fists. She hadn’t thought she would be nervous, but somewhere between committing her life in service to Madame Endelle and the promise not to drink someone to death, the reality that she was ascending suddenly got to her.

“Ascendiate,” Endelle cried, her voice a hard bite.

Parisa’s hearing cleared. “Yes, Madame Endelle?” Just above the neckline of Endelle’s black ceremonial robes, Parisa could see a line of leopard fur. The Supreme High Administrator had a predilection for animal skins and hides, for bird feathers, and even on occasion for the skins of reptiles. Havily called her fashion-challenged … to say the least.

Endelle rolled her eyes. “Do you agree to serve Second Earth with a mind and heart dedicated to service?”

Parisa nodded. “I do.”

“Do you agree to abide by the laws of Second Earth, especially as they apply to the limitations of involvement with Mortal Earth?”

“I do.”

“And do you solemnly pledge your loyalty to me, as Supreme High Administrator of Second Earth?”

“I do.”

“Then I proclaim to this gathered assembly, who stand as witnesses to your ascension, that you are hereby granted ascender status. Come forth and allow me to imbue you with all the blessings of the vampire nature.” She folded the ceremonial book away.

Parisa couldn’t make her feet move. She felt dizzy and strange as she stared at Madame Endelle’s outstretched hands. Was she really going to do this? She had forgotten that part of the ceremony would involve the acceptance of near-immortality and vampire fangs for the taking of human blood and the releasing of potent chemicals.

Oh. God.

“Parisa, don’t flake out on me now,” Endelle cried. “Get your ass over here.”

Endelle’s sharp tone and irreverent words knocked some of the fear out of Parisa. She moved forward, although unsteadily in her four-inch heels. When she stood in front of Endelle, the disparity in height set Parisa at eye level with the leopard fur.

With warm hands Endelle touched Parisa’s cheeks oh-so-lightly. A tingling began to build between her hands and Parisa’s jaw. She looked up into Endelle’s eyes, but they were closed.

Dizziness once more assailed her.

Endelle’s eyes popped open. “What the hell is with you women? You’re as bad as Alison was during her ascension. Goddammit, release your f**king shields!”

Parisa gasped. She closed her eyes this time, dove inside her mind, and let loose what she perceived to be those shields. Even Greaves had marveled at her shields, calling them magnificent.

“Finally,” Endelle snapped.

Power flowed, a torrent through Parisa’s body, of warmth and light, of a tremendous sensation of well-being. Her upper gums began to tingle at the base of each incisor. At the same time, she felt tendrils touching her mind, trying to reach within. She knew that sensation, and it had nothing to do with the ruler of Second Earth.

“Something’s happening,” she whispered.

“You’re getting your fangs, just relax, vampire.”

“No, it’s not that.”

Rith. She knew it was Rith. She recognized his touch, although this one was a gentler version of all that she’d experienced while under his control.

An image of him, his Asian features, his broad forehead and wide nose, his black hair, flowed through her mind.

She closed her eyes and focused on him. Oh, how she wanted him dead. She had never thought she would say that about anyone, but Rith’s heinous blood-slavery operation had changed that. What if she could reach the monster and be rid of him permanently?

His smiling face taunted her. Without thinking, she thought the thought, and the vibration began. The next moment she was drifting, flying, moving.

Oh, God, she was folding!

And somewhere in her consciousness, she knew she was folding straight to Rith. Somehow, the vampire had tricked her.

***

Medichi had remained as close to Parisa during the ceremony as he could manage without doing anything improper. The palace had open walls through many of the connected rotundas, and it wasn’t so long ago that Greaves had organized an attack here following Alison’s ascension ceremony. He had a right to be nervous despite the state-of-the-art security system Endelle had in place. It couldn’t guard against every preternatural contingency.

Like this one.

He had watched Parisa weave on her feet more than once during the ceremony. But just as Endelle had empowered her with ascended life and with her vampire fangs, she disappeared. How? Why? Worse, was she in danger?

He rushed forward and met Endelle’s surprised gaze.

Her Supremeness blinked and said, “Well, that’s never happened before.”

No shit.

Parisa had dematerialized. She had folded for the first time, but where had she gone?

As far as Medichi knew, she hadn’t manifested that power yet or she would have left her captivity long before this. Had the ceremony brought on a new power? Probably.

He didn’t wait for permission or direction. With a thought, he folded off the cape and breastplate that would hinder him if he had to do battle. He closed his eyes and found her trace, which was made up of beautiful amethyst trails of light. The color was not a surprise.

He followed the elegant pathway, his hand itching as he traveled through nether-space, ready to fold his sword into his hand the moment his feet touched solid ground.

He materialized and at the same moment swept his sword into his waiting fist. Rith stood eight feet away, both hands on Parisa’s arms, his expression intense, forceful. He was working hard, his concentration focused. Whatever he was trying to do, it was taking every ounce of his energy and his awareness. Her body shimmered with energy. She was battling to keep him from folding her with him. If he succeeded, he’d lose her again, because Rith could block his trace.

“Hell the f**k no!” he shouted. He raced toward her, his preternatural speed shrinking time to a nanosecond. He slid his left arm around her waist, pulled her back into him, then swept the sword through the air at the level of Rith’s waiting neck.