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Gates of Rapture

Gates of Rapture (Guardians of Ascension #6)(42)
Author: Caris Roane

Grace slipped her arm around Leto’s. She could feel that he stood on some terrible precipice as he stared at Kerrick. “It ruined something in me to betray the warriors, to betray Second Earth.” He began to shake as though his century of being viewed as a traitor, in that moment, had just caught up with him.

Grace glanced at Alison. Alison stared back and shrugged as though even she didn’t know what to do.

But it was Kerrick who suddenly stepped into Leto. He grabbed him, hugged him, and held on. Maybe it was a warrior thing, something only another warrior could truly understand. “You’re back with us now,” Kerrick said. “That’s all that matters, brother.” He all but pounded on Leto’s back.

Leto settled down and pulled away. He nodded several times, then offered a smile. “Thank you for that.”

Kerrick nodded in like manner and cleared his throat. He swept his arm around Alison, who leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Okay. Well, that’s settled. Good. Good. Uh, but just in case you didn’t know, it isn’t wise to go around hugging other warriors’ brehs.”

Leto laughed. “Oh, I know.” He slid his arm around Grace. “And I wouldn’t have, but Grace gave me permission.”

Kerrick shifted to smile ruefully at Grace. “Yeah, that’s what Alison said.” He laughed and shook his head. “Damn breh-hedden. It’s always charging down on me when I least expect it.” He nodded a few more times, then jerked his head in the direction of the landing platform. “Well, I better get back.” He drew away from Alison and reset his thick wavy black hair in his cadroen. “I’m working with Seriffe through the afternoon. Luken, Zach, and Santiago are at Apache Junction Two as well. Come say hi if you get a break later today.”

“I will.”

He leaned down and kissed Alison again, then headed up the shallow ramp. Alison walked with him to the top of the platform.

Grace slipped her arm around Leto’s waist. “You okay?” she asked quietly.

He turned into her and drew her into his arms. He held her in a tight embrace. I feel lost, he sent. I can’t help it, I just do. What I did robbed me of something, a feeling that I’ll never really belong, never feel whole again.

There were no real words to make things right, so Grace continued to hold him, to stroke his arms and back. To kiss his neck above his vein over and over, to whisper her love and to remind him that she knew him deeply and valued all that he was.

Thorne called out, “Hey, I didn’t know you two were here.”

Grace pulled away and turned toward her brother, who stood in the archway that led to the large central rotunda. “Kerrick was just here,” she said.

She glanced at Leto, but his gaze was fixed on Thorne, his expression intent.

“Looks like we’ve got a battle coming,” Thorne said. He glanced at Alison, who had rejoined them. “And I think it’s because we have a major convergence among the three of you.”

Grace couldn’t help but agree. Both Leto and Alison had some connection to Third Earth, especially if it turned out Leto really was ascending. And she, of course, was the missing piece of the obsidian flame puzzle.

“Where do you want me?” Leto asked.

“Here, at the palace, or in Apache Junction Two at Militia Warrior HQ. We’ll both float between the two places. I’ll want you to liaison with the colonies’ militia.”

He turned and waved a hand forward then led them into the large central rotunda.

Grace was surprised to find that the usually empty room was now laden with long tables, dozens of swivel chairs, computers, and cords running every which way. A massive and familiar grid that mapped the entire globe sat at the center of everything.

Leto looked around. “This looks damn familiar, the way Greaves’s HQ looked at the Estrella Mountain Complex.”

Thorne took him on a tour and introduced him to the various techs and Militia Warriors he’d chosen to work at the palace with him. Grace followed behind, savoring the wonderful changes in Thorne that had occurred since she had last seen him. He was even taller than she remembered, maybe by a full inch, a result of the recent transformation he had been through as he took on the mantle as anchor to the obsidian triad. His beautiful hazel eyes were clear and full of fire. He even had a faint silver aura and overall, he just felt more powerful.

When Thorne reached the last table, he said, “Endelle wanted me to bring all of you through to her private suite once you got here.” He waved them forward and led them through two smaller adjoining rotundas.

Endelle met them outside another large archway that undoubtedly opened onto her rooms. Her skin had the beautiful olive tones of the Middle East. Despite her garish fashion sense, and her unmatched profane mouth, she was an Arabian beauty, out of Mesopotamia nine thousand years ago. Her eyes might have at one time been a rich chocolate brown, but they had grown strangely wooded in appearance over the millennia, as though the deep struggles of her life, of having lived alone as the ruler of Second Earth for such a long time, had left her scarred.

She wore a pair of pants in striped black-and-white leather topped with a cherry-red bustier. Her low-hanging belt was made of tiny silver scorpions. Grace was a little surprised, because even though most women would never wear such an outfit, this actually had to be one of Endelle’s most subdued ensembles ever. She frowned as she greeted them. Grace could sense her distress.

Endelle’s sitting room was filled with purple velvet couches and chairs all arranged on a huge pure white shag rug. Glass tables were scattered around. As with much of the palace, instead of a window, the wall was open to the air and led to a small terrace and low wall.

She gestured for everyone to sit down, even though she remained standing.

Thorne took a seat in a big chair that faced away from the terrace. Alison sat opposite him, which gave Grace the chance to sit with Leto on the couch, which suited her. Maybe it was the breh-hedden, but she wanted to be close to him right now.

Endelle paced the length of the room, the scorpion belt jingling. She called over her shoulder, “Havily brought in Starbucks, and I drank three grandes all by myself. I’m either peeing or pacing.” Her hair moved as well in response to her emotions. She was definitely keyed up.

“I was about to tell them what’s going on,” Thorne said.

“Fine,” she responded, but without her usual sarcasm.

That was new. Normally, especially with Thorne, she would have laid on the attitude. Apparently not today, maybe not anymore.

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