Awakening, Page 2

  And who exactly wanted her dead?

  ~ ~ ~

  Duncan couldn’t cry out, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

  He hurt into the bowels of his body and deep into the seat of his soul where Yolanthe searched through his memories, his thoughts, his beliefs, everything that he was as a man, even what he’d suffered as a child.

  She’d paused over the horror of his father’s teaching lessons, the ones beat into every fiber of his being. He’d even felt her grow very still for a moment and the pain had actually lessened.

  But that reprieve hadn’t lasted long.

  The woman searched and searched.

  While doing her mind-dive and because her voyeur window had drawn his vision inward at the same time, he saw what she saw, all the memories and the glow of something rust-colored. He finally understood that this was the means by which Yolanthe retained control of him: she’d formed an extremely powerful, Third Earth mind link with him.

  If what he understood was true – only the creator of the link could remove it – then he was screwed.

  She stumbled across another memory, one that he’d forgotten because it had taken place when that bastard, Sharav, had been torturing him.

  Yolanthe had been there. She’d visited his stone cell, watching him with her pale blue, predatory eyes. “He’ll give us so much, my love.”

  Sharav had gone to her, kissing her on the lips. “He already has.”

  Somehow Duncan knew that Sharav was referring to sex, that the couple had used his suffering to get themselves off. Rage began to boil that once again he’d been at the mercy of powerful ascenders with vile, cruel natures. He’d grown up under the punishing thumb of his father, Sharav had tortured him, and now he was trapped in a trance.

  To his surprise, Yolanthe seemed suddenly distressed, maybe that she’d inadvertently allowed Duncan to see those memories. She reversed direction and began to leave his mind. This time, the pain became so severe that he disappeared into the void of unconsciousness.

  When he came to, Yolanthe stood near a warrior-type with long, black hair and three braids hanging down either side of his dark face.

  Her reddish brow rose the familiar quarter-inch. “So, the grid has found Rachel at last? I just searched through his memories and couldn’t find a recent dwelling on Second Earth at all. I know he loves the woman, but apparently they haven’t been together for some time. So, where is she?”

  “Mortal Earth. The Seattle area. A hidden colony of Second Earth ascenders, which is very well shielded.”

  “Well, that would explain why it’s taken this long.”

  Duncan’s mind hurt so badly that he could barely focus. But he forced himself to concentrate because somewhere in the muddle that was his head, he knew they were speaking about Rachel.

  Oh, God, they’d found her.

  His heart began to race. Despite the trance, he was connected to his body and could feel the catheter and the tubes, everything that was keeping him alive.

  He had to get to Rachel to save her.

  “Send your best wrecking crew through the Mortal Earth darkening grid. No one ever goes there these days and the grid won’t be watched or at least if you are discovered, you’ll be back by then and safe.”

  “Your will is mine, Princess.” He bowed, one fist to his chest, then vanished in an abrupt fold.

  Duncan’s chest felt crushed. Rachel would die in the next few minutes if he didn’t figure this out.

  He forced himself to calm down, to think.

  He recalled the glowing rust-colored ember deep within his soul: the mind-link.

  On a hunch, he retraced Yolanthe’s path, diving deep. It hurt like holy hell but he didn’t care. He had to save Rachel and the only way he could set himself free was to find that link and sever it. He didn’t know if it was possible, but he had to try.

  The trip probably only took a few seconds, but felt like an eternity. When he reached the glowing ember that indicated the link, he summoned every ounce of his preternatural power and began to work on the link, pounding it with waves of his essential vampire power.

  The light began to waver and he felt the difference immediately, that at least for this moment, he was free.

  He was free.

  He didn’t wait, but flew back up through his mind, ignoring the searing pain and sure enough, the voyeur’s window was gone and he was in the hospital.

  He sat up, but became so dizzy that he flopped back down on the bed. Slowly, he pulled the feeding tube out of his nose, gagging and sputtering.

  Save Rachel.

  He eased himself back up and drew the tube out of his penis, wincing the whole time. He then jerked both IVs out of his arms.

  He dropped the railing and rolled out of bed. He would have fallen except he was able at the last second to grab the side railing.

  He whispered to himself, his voice raw, “Come on, you fucker, get going.”

  Once more, he summoned every last bit of his preternatural power, focusing on Rachel and her beloved garden. And just like that, he folded to Mortal Earth landing a few feet from where she stood with her shovel. The colony’s alarms shrieked because he hadn’t used their landing platforms.

  “Rachel?” His voice barely worked.

  She turned toward him, stunned. “Duncan?”

  The dizziness returned and he felt himself falling backward.

  ~ ~ ~

  Rachel dropped her shovel and ran to Duncan, just a few feet away. He had blood spatters on his hospital gown and he looked as pale as death. “Duncan, what happened? How did you get here?”

  She knelt beside him and lifted his head, cradling him in her arms. His eyes rolled. She’d never seen him this weak before. “Duncan, please.”

  He blinked. “Rachel. Wreckers. Apache Junction Two. Now.”

  Rachel heard a faint, distant rumbling, a sound she didn’t recognize, but she suspected they were wreckers. She’d heard the stories; Third Earth warriors that worked their darkening grid. Her heart slammed around in her chest.

  Wreckers. Here?

  The rumbling grew stronger.

  Every instinct told her to get the hell out of there. And when Duncan had said Apache Junction Two, she knew he meant Militia Warrior Headquarters on Second Earth.

  Despite that she was breaking colony protocol by not heading to the landing platforms first, she focused on Militia HQ and began the fold. At the same split-second, the air in front of her exploded. She caught a glimpse of several powerful warriors, long-braids next to their faces, shotguns in hand.

  They aimed at her and fired.

  ~ ~ ~

  Endelle loved her scorpion belt. She’d paid a fortune to have the stinging creatures cast in metal and linked together. She donned her favorite black bustier, the one that sent her girls into the stratosphere and had all the men either staring slack-jawed or purposely looking elsewhere.

  Either way, she loved the reaction. Keeping everyone off-center was a big part of her strategy for managing all the warriors around her.

  Her thong had gotten twisted, so she took a moment to adjust the damn thing.

  “Charming, Endelle.”

  Oh, hell, she’d forgotten that Merl reclined on her bed behind her. He’d become the most recent addition to her retinue, more like a court jester than anything else right now. He’d helped Warrior Samuel and Vela pull Duncan out of Third Earth.

  Now he was here, in her bedroom, watching her get dressed.

  She turned toward him, lifting a finely plucked, arched brow. “You try wearing this shit and see how many times you’re plucking at your ass-hairs trying to get more comfortable.”

  Merl laughed. He had a lot of beautiful white teeth with a pair of fangs to die for, which was just one of the many things she liked about the man. “Then why do you wear them?” he asked.

  She glanced down at the triangle of sheer black fabric, then turned to check herself out in the mirror. “Because my pussy looks so pretty behind this thin laye
r of black see-through fabric. Don’t you think?”

  She turned in Merl’s direction. With the intent of driving him crazy, she waved her hand and added a black garter belt with small red cherries embroidered across the top. Another wave, and she now wore sexy black fishnet stockings.

  Merl, who’d been lying on his side, rolled onto his back, groaning. “You have me in a permanent wooded state, you know.”

  “Aw, too bad. I feel so sad.”

  Again, he laughed. She had the feeling she’d brought as much ease to his life as his absurdity had brought to hers.

  She turned to face the full-length mirror once more. She needed to get a move on. She had a ten o’clock with an emissary from COPASS, that ridiculous governing group that hadn’t bothered to check the acronym when it had created and logged its official name: Committee to Oversee the Process of Ascension to Second Society. They did little more than cop-each-other’s-asses anyway, though they worked hard to make her life miserable.

  After that, she had a teleconference with Thorne, then a massage at eleven. She would need the massage after Thorne told her just how badly the war against the three generals was going. Thorne had a permanent base in North Africa, running his command from there. Though, he often folded to her palace to check on his tech crew in the Command Center.

  So far, his whole damn army was up shit creek.

  She waved her hand again, lost the stockings and the garter belt, and donned a pair of snug capris pants with a cheetah pattern in gold and black. Another wave and her feet were encased in the most exquisite stilettos made of gold mesh and each dangling with about two dozen small metal scorpions. She loved the soft jangle the shoes made when she walked.

  Wrapping the belt around her waist, she smiled thinking she was ready to meet the COPASS emissary.

  Merl called to her from the bed. “Do you like my shirt?”

  The man had a great voice and she suspected that if she ever did allow him between her legs, he’d use that voice laced with an exquisite resonance and make her come. He didn’t have as deep a voice as Duncan – poor bastard, still in his trance – but anytime Merl whispered in her ear, damn if she didn’t feel some chills and thrills in just the right places.

  “What about your shirt?” she asked, turning to finally make eye-contact. When she saw that he was now bare-chested and circled his nipples with his fingers, she rolled her eyes.

  He grinned. “Admit it, you like my body.”

  Endelle sighed, heavily, because the man was right. She did love his stupid-ass, muscular, oh-so-hot, warrior physique and she wanted her hands all over him. She wanted to suck on something so hard that …

  She closed her eyes. She had to stop all this freaking nonsense or she’d do what she knew she shouldn’t do; she’d have her way with Merl and probably keep him tied up permanently in her bedroom.

  And for all of Merl’s teasing ways, she knew that’s exactly what he wanted as well.

  Coming from Third Earth, he had a boatload of power. As soon as she’d met him, she’d used one of her more advanced gifts and had done a quick inventory of his abilities.

  Her resistance to using him to satisfy her needs was pretty simple. From the time that Warrior Kerrick had found his vampire mate in Alison, Endelle had come to understand that those warriors nearest her had been chosen to help her. Whether by a higher power or the luck of the draw, each would gain a bonded mate, or breh, and a helluva lot more essential power.

  Each man was on a track to run headlong into love, for she could call the breh-hedden nothing else.

  She shook her head at Merl. Still on his back, he now pressed his leathers down around his crotch. His massive erection ran the full-length of his zipper and she clenched so hard between her legs that she almost came.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, and took several long, deep breaths.

  But Merl took advantage of her sexed-up state. He moved in close behind her, wrapping her up in his powerful arms. With his pants still on, he pushed what was hard between her butt-cheeks.

  “Let me give you relief, Endelle,” he whispered, right behind her ear. “I can feel your need and I can smell your sex. You know I’d do this right.”

  She might as well tell him the truth. “I know you would.”

  He drew the words out slowly as he said, “Then … let me … pleasure you.” With his right hand, he dipped low and cupped her. He began to massage.

  Shit.

  But she caught his hand, forcing him to stop. “No. I want to, but you’re headed toward something, my friend. I can feel it. Otherwise, I would have jumped your bones the same day you showed up with Samuel and Vela.”

  He slid his hand away, but rested his forehead against the back of her neck. “Fuck.”

  “Sorry, no.”

  He chuckled. “You make me, laugh, you know.”

  “Same here.”

  He released her but that’s when the dizziness hit Endelle. She reached out with her hands and grabbed air then toppled to the floor, rolling onto her back.

  In the distance, she could hear Merl calling to her, asking her what was wrong. But she couldn’t speak.

  Her back arched.

  She didn’t know what the hell was happening to her. Her mind felt invaded, as though some force outside of her was pushing heat and power into her brain.

  Then the images began to roll.

  Holy fucking shit, she was having a vision!

  She never had visions.

  The first was of Luken battling as she’d seen him look when he fought death vampires, which was usually seven or eight at a time.

  No one looked more glorious in battle, not even Thorne, the acknowledged hero of them all.

  But Luken, with his massive shoulders, arms and pecs, his thick muscled thighs, his blond hair and blue eyes, was a Nordic God from mythology. When he donned battle gear and wielded his sword to fight hard on behalf of Second Earth, he had no equal.

  But in these rolling images, she could see death vampires coming out of the sky, more and more and more, descending on him.

  The steel of his sword flashed in the night sky, sparking with fire.

  He fought like a god, whirling in the air, moving faster and faster, at times seeming to disappear. The land behind him was mountainous and stormy and a distant ridge was on fire.

  She felt what was coming, and watched as at least a dozen Third Earth death vampires arrived to join the battle.

  Luken wouldn’t stand a chance. Third Earth death vampires had tremendous power.

  He fought valiantly, but the numbers overwhelmed him and a blade caught him from behind. He arched and fell, his light blue wings ineffective as he began plummeting to earth.

  There was no way to save him.

  Her heart ached as he disappeared into the land below.

  In the vision, she remained high in the sky suspended as the death vampires celebrated, roaring into the heavens. They were incredibly beautiful with their pale, faintly bluish complexions, each feature even, and their wings a glossy black.

  Within the vision, she followed the vampires, traveling hundreds of miles. She saw alternating landscapes of wastelands, ridges of fire, and the earth’s great natural beauty. Sometimes a city would appear and a great stone wall.

  This was Third Earth. She’d heard tales of it, but she’d never seen it. The dimension had been closed off from all the other earths for a long time.

  She flew with the death vampires until she reached what had to be Chicago Three only it was a small stone-built town, like something from Medieval England.

  A large castle dominated the lakeshore, beautifully wrought with turrets and spires, a moat and a drawbridge.

  The death vampires flew into one of the upper balconies, but she was drawn across the bridge, over the moat and though a vast courtyard. Massive doors opened and she moved into what she knew to be a throne room.

  The vision paused as though waiting for something. Finally a man appeared, one she despised beyond
any she had known in her entire life. He was called Chustaffus and he was the only man to have ever taken Endelle against her will.

  He walked swiftly through the room and she followed him. What the castle lacked in modern structure, a full-blown war room made up for with every electronic device man had created in any dimension.

  She hovered in the air at the back of his command center and watched as the monitors showed not his world, but Second Earth. She recognized the three theaters of war.

  Three other men were there, all warrior tough. She knew them as Chustaffus’s sons, all made in his image. Chustaffus put his hands on the shoulders of two of them. “And we’re sure Duncan is dead at last?”

  “He is, father,” the tallest said.

  “Then let the final assault on Second Earth begin.” Chustaffus’s hard, brutal voice commanded the room.

  Each monitor suddenly filled with what looked like smoke at first glance. Endelle soon realized she was looking at thousands upon thousands of death vampires flying into each of three theaters of war on Second Earth.

  Over the next few minutes, she watched her armies overcome and slaughtered. Bombs exploded in constant succession as well.

  Though time-elapsed in the vision, the assault went on for hours.

  Other images passed through the main monitor as she watched the physical decimation of Metro Phoenix Two, then extending to every major city in the world.

  The vision shifted and in a Paris Two castle, she watched as the royalty of her world paid fealty to Chustaffus who sat on the throne.

  In the vision, she appeared as well, bound in chains, enhanced with Chustaffus’s power so that she couldn’t escape. “And you, Endelle, will belong to me for a very long time.”

  Just as she thought the nightmarish images were coming to an end, she felt a hand on her shoulder within the vision. Turning, she saw Duncan who nodded somberly. “You must send me to Third. The future isn’t fixed. You must let me try, as well as Luken.”

  Finally, the vision drifted away.

  Never in Endelle’s long-lived life had she had a vision of any kind. She wasn’t made of Seer material.

  Yet, she’d just seen the future of her world laid out for her: Luken’s fate appeared to begin a terrible sequence of events, ending almost simultaneously with the destruction of her armies and the major cities of Second Earth.