The Darkening (Page 40)

He crossed to Vela and ripped the rope bindings off her wrists, dragged her against his waist, and closed his eyes. He mentally sought for his sword and found it surrounded by a crew designed to salvage identified weapons. He folded the sword into his hand.

He heard running footsteps and watched as the grid wall began to close.

But the opening allowed him to do a last second fold and he took them both within.

“My turn,” Vela said. She put on her best speed and the next moment raced through the darkening.

Explosions sounded behind them and not far away at all.

Can I help? he sent.

Just hold me close. That’s helping.

Samuel let his power flow, but he sensed it could do nothing to aid with her speed, so he addressed another potential problem.

Merl, he sent. We’re on our way back to your house. Sharav laid a trap, but he’s dead now. Wreckers at our heels.

Got it. Calling in reinforcements.

On through dozens of criss-crossing tunnels, Vela never failing to make instant choices.

He felt them cross the dimensional boundary, like a preternatural speed- bump.

We’re almost there, Vela sent. But another explosion hit close and debris bit at his calves.

One more tunnel.

And damn would you look at that.

Where Merl’s wall used to exist, and just inside the darkening grid, stood an array of Warrior of the Blood power that not even a wrecking crew could withstand because each held one of the re-identified shotguns: Thorne, Leto, and this time, Luken, whose mere size would deter the best wrecker warrior any day.

Of course the explosions had also taken out Merl’s wall, but the bastard, standing in his living room beyond, grinned.

As Samuel and Vela passed by the What-Bees and essentially ran straight into Merl’s house, Samuel whirled and watched as a wrecking crew broke through the opposite wall. They met a hail of rapid weapon-fire as all three warriors, Luken clearly up to speed, unloaded their weapons and vaporized the enemy.

Yet even in the distance another explosion sounded as a second crew approached.

“We’ve only got a few seconds,” Vela cried out.

Merl shouted, “Move out of the grid now!” The three warriors turned and leaped. Just as Merl started closing up the darkening wall, an explosion ripped through the air as another wrecking crew arrived, shotguns at their hips.

Vela joined Merl, this time planting a hand on his shoulder, instead of on the wall, experiencing his power and reflecting it. As the second squad fired, her power spread over the darkening wall.

Samuel watched a golden aura pass over the wall, creating a seal even as the explosion sounded from the other side.

The air vibrated strangely.

The aura wavered.

Samuel held his breath.

But the wall held.

Silence reigned for a good long moment, until Merl stepped away from the wall and turned to face the room. “We’re good.” Vela shifted as well.

Samuel glanced from one astonished face to the other, adrenaline still flowing through every vein present and all but singing through the air.

Vela planted her hands on her hips.

“Well, that was fun.” Everyone laughed.

Samuel crossed to her and took her in his arms. His head f**king hurt, but Vela lived and right now nothing else mattered.

Back in Endelle’s private suite, Vela sat on Samuel’s lap in the large purple chair that faced away from the open air wall. Endelle had called the gathering to announce that for the first time in over 200 hundred years, the Warriors of the Blood would have a new member.

An hour earlier, they’d each shared their experiences with Endelle in her private office, with Thorne present as well. Endelle had made her position clear.

“You’d better join up, ass**le, and start working out with your new brothers, or next time you and your woman might not be so lucky. We clear?” Samuel had surprised Vela by merely nodding. “Yes, Madame Endelle. It would be my honor to serve.” Now they were here among a gathering of some of Second Earth’s most powerful vampires.

From her position, she could see everyone clearly, including those who ranged behind the chair in which she sat.

Even baby Helena flew from ascender to ascender, up to her antics that kept the warriors saying, “Just like her dad.” Kerrick stood near Alison, smiling and holding his left arm in a crook for the baby to land. Apparently, they’d been teaching her boundaries but the challenges of parenting, true from the beginning of time, never ceased.

Luken, Zacharius, and Santiago addressed the real flying-baby problem, having formed a line in front of the space where a wall should have existed. Endelle had built the palace with lots of open-air balconies and no windows. Baby Helena, in true ‘like father’ mode, kept testing all three warriors, trying to find her way into the wild.

Vela watched Helena fly toward the men, but each started jumping up and down and waving his arms, which kept the toddler from moving forward. Fortunately, she grew fatigued easily, so Santiago formed an arm-crook, and Helena made another landing. She leaned her head on his arm and he spoke to her with the softest smile on his lips, as the flutter of her wings kept her balanced.

At a right angle to Vela’s position, and not far from the three un-bonded warriors, Alison stood talking quietly to Fiona, who in turn leaned against her breh, Jean-Pierre.

On the far wall, near the entrance to the room, Antony and Parisa stood together, looking fatigued since they’d just gotten back from a wings of fire demonstration in Europe Two, just outside of Paris. Antony had his arm around Parisa, holding her close. He kept dipping down and whispering things to her that made her blush. She’d then lift up, and kiss him on the lips. Even though Parisa stood five-ten in her bare feet, Antony towered over her at six-seven.

On the couch nearest Vela, Havily sat beside Marcus. They held hands, but from the time they’d entered the room, the pair had engaged in an argument about some web-campaign or other. Between clashes, however, Marcus would lift their joined fingers and plant a couple of kisses on the back of her hand that always made Havily smile.

Directly across from Vela, in a matching, warrior-sized purple chair, Grace sat on Leto’s lap, her head buried in his shoulder. She sighed several times.

The breh-hedden had invaded their lives in a serious way only a month ago. The joke made the rounds often that they were on their breh- moon. From the way Leto stared at Grace, Vela knew he wasn’t thinking about anything in this room right now, maybe just how soon he could be alone with his woman.

Thorne stood guard at the door, his arms folded over his chest, his expression serious. She could almost read his mind, that his thoughts remained in his Command Center and with the hundreds of thousands of Militia Warriors at risk because of three rogue generals.