Burning Skies (23 page)

So Havily would be infinitely safer at the villa than in her town house. Once … or rather
if
 … they found this mortal-with-wings, they could bring her to the villa as well and afford her the same level of protection, at least for an hour or so. Mortals couldn’t survive in the second dimension, not for very long. If trapped on Second Earth, an unascended mortal would die within twenty-four hours. The two-hour mark was usually more than most mortals could bear. But an hour would give all of them enough time to figure out a strong course of action.

There would also be plenty of room for privacy, and as he gave Havily’s hand a squeeze and glanced at her, he knew he would be needing some privacy with her … soon.

Okay, he didn’t need to think about that right now. He looked back at Endelle. “Did Thorne say in what part of the Valley we would find this mortal?” With a population of three million, the Phoenix area on Mortal Earth was one helluva haystack to sort through, especially with a critical time frame.

No doubt Greaves’s war room was already on the task.

Endelle looked over her shoulder at Havily. “No, but ask her? She’s the go-to woman right now. She’s always got some plan for solving problems, getting shit organized. See, I don’t think she’s completely useless.”

Havily laughed. “Was that a compliment, Madame Supreme High Administrator?”

Endelle stepped toward her and met her gaze. “Was that sarcasm, my little organizer?”

Marcus once more put himself physically between the two women. He thought he might have a conversation later with Havily about not baiting scorpions in general. He addressed Endelle. “There’s something else you need to know.”

She shifted her lined, ancient gaze to his. “What?” she snapped. “I don’t have all night.”

Marcus glanced at Havily and frowned slightly. “We need to tell her,” he said.

“You mean about … earlier?”

“Yeah.”

Havily lifted her chin but released a heavy sigh. “Yes, I think so, too. Shall I?”

He smiled. Maybe she’d been set back on her heels all these decades by Endelle’s sour opinion of Havily’s powers, but his woman didn’t lack for pluck. “Go ahead.”

Havily met Endelle’s gaze head-on. “Earlier today, when Marcus and I were …
engaged …
I took him into the darkening.”

He liked that she said it flat-out. He also enjoyed just how wide Endelle’s eyes grew.

Her Supremeness blinked. “You did what?”

“For the past four months, I thought I’d been engaged in enjoying very intense, dream-like fantasies about Warrior Marcus. Two nights ago, when I had a vision of Luken with his wings on fire, I also thought it was a vision I was having.” She took a deep breath. This couldn’t be an easy thing for her to say, since she was essentially speaking about sex to the most vulgar, inappropriate, indiscreet vampire on Second Earth. Still, she pressed on. “However, today, this afternoon, when Marcus and I were … making love … we ended up in the darkening. I think all this time, I’ve been taking Marcus into the darkening, and when Luken was attacked I somehow took myself into the darkening and traveled to his location. Once there, however, I couldn’t reach him.”

“No one in this dimension,” Endelle cried, “can go into the darkening but me, not even Greaves. So forgive me if I don’t believe you. Settle down Marcus, what I mean is, why don’t you describe for me what it was like, what it looked like, what it felt like, and I don’t mean your warrior’s cock. This is important, Morgan. I must know exactly what happened.”

Havily took her time and described the experience. Marcus nodded his agreement.

When she had finished, Endelle just stared at her. “Holy shit,” she muttered. “Well, you’ve described it exactly and I’ll be a goddamn motherfucker if you don’t have darkening capabilities. It’s a goddamn righteous Third ability, you know.” Her brows knotted. “Were you in two places at once?”

Havily shook her head. “No, never that. In or out, never both, although I understand splitting-self is a critical aspect of the ability. I never did that. I suppose you can.”

Endelle snorted. “Damn straight I can.” She narrowed her eyes. “And you’re sure you weren’t in two places at once?”

“I’m sure.”

Endelle almost smiled. “Well, well, well. So you have some power after all. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow and we’ll talk about what to do next. For one thing, I’ll need to teach you how to split yourself. Then maybe you’ll be of some real use to me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her Supremeness turned to Marcus. “Protect Havily and find this mortal-with-wings ASAP. Update Thorne then keep on updating him. He’ll contact me if I’m needed. Okay. We’re done.”

Endelle lifted her arm and vanished, no doubt to return to her meditation chamber.

He glanced at Havily. “Medichi’s first, then we’ll figure out what we need to do next. How does that sound?”

She nodded, frowning.

“What?”

“Well, you know how odd Endelle’s clothes can be? But she actually looked almost normal tonight, didn’t she, like she was wearing a sort of Grecian robe?”

“When she does her meditation work, her darkening work, she usually wears something comfortable. At least that’s how I remember her.”

“It was just so strange not to see her in a tiger skin or … rabbit pelts.”

“Rabbit?”

Havily laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

He slid an arm around her neck, pulling her close. He held her in that position, locked against him, just looking into her eyes until her lips parted and he smelled a delicious wave of honeysuckle. He planted his lips over hers. He palmed her cheek and deepened the kiss. He made liberal use of his tongue until she responded with a soft moan. He stroked her cheek as he drew back. “We’d better get you over to the villa or I’m going to have you against that wall again.”

She searched his eyes. “Do you know how much I’m tempted to keep you right here?”

He growled deep in his throat. A woman shouldn’t say such a thing to a vampire, especially not to a vampire caught in the grip of the
breh-hedden.

“Fennel,” she whispered. She pressed a hand to her chest and gulped as she drew away from him. She brought her iPhone out of her pant pocket, touched the screen a couple of times, then pressed it to her ear. “Hi, Jeannie,” she said after a moment. He still had hold of her hand. “Can you send us to Medichi’s villa?” A pause, then, “Yeah, I’ve got him. Do your worst.”

And the vibration began.

The hunt is the true elixir of ascended vampire life.

—
Collected Proverbs,
Beatrice of Fourth

CHAPTER 10

Havily released Marcus’s hand as soon as she felt the planked wood floor of Medichi’s villa beneath her feet. She was aware that if he so much as said the word, or came at her with a familiar wild glint in his eye, she’d fall right back into his arms and let him push her up against any of these walls.

She drew some much-needed air into her lungs and questioned all over again what she was doing with this man. She had never felt more vulnerable.

Marcus looked around. “I see he’s made a few changes.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s been two hundred years since you were here.”

“Yep.”

Havily glanced around as well. She had been to the estate a number of times. Though parties were rare, if the warriors had one, Medichi hosted, as well he should. The dark, almost black wood floors were covered in fine woven rugs. Antique furniture, some quite massive pieces, ran stem-to-stern.

His villa was a work of art in the Italianate style, and he had expanded the property over many decades. He was wealthy but then he’d spent centuries building his investments, particularly in the import business from Mortal Earth. He also had a love of computers, so as soon as there were whispers on earth of the PC, Medichi had bought stock.

She stood with Marcus near the front door in the large central foyer. Opposite was a bank of French doors that led to a beige stone terrace and rolling lawns, which sloped upward in the direction of the White Tanks Wildlife Refuge. The desert of the refuge was a powerful juxtaposition to the green grass and the dozen or so palo verde trees staggered on that part of the grounds.

To the right, at the north end of the villa, a guesthouse and Olympic-sized pool sat at the entrance to extensive formal gardens. Hundreds of Italian cypresses created various boundaries throughout the grounds, delineating vineyard and winery, from an olive grove and press as well as from the main house and gardens. Medichi sold his wine, olives, and olive oil, but only locally as a hobby.

He read, he studied, he played the piano, and he owned several public gardens throughout the world, including the new hanging gardens of Babylon, reconstructed from the accounts of ascenders over the years, those who had been alive during the height of the Babylonian Empire. His gardens were open to the public, and it was said the combined annual receipts could have funded a small nation for, oh, about a hundred years.

Havily had often wondered why she wasn’t more attracted to Antony Medichi, whose education, extraordinary physicality, and careful manners made him the object of overwhelming attention from the female of the species wherever he went. She adored him, of course, as she adored all the warriors. But the spark just wasn’t there.

Speaking of sparks …

She glanced at Marcus as his gaze traveled over the foyer and moved to look down the southern hall at a series of connected rooms. He whistled as he had earlier at the palace. “Holy shit. Medichi makes me look like a lightweight.”

And there it was, Havily thought, the difference that seemed to reach out to her every time she drew near Marcus of Mortal Earth. He was down-to-earth, single-minded, intense, and probably had little interest in collecting art.

When his gaze landed on an impressionist painting on the left wall of the entrance, she said, “Yes, that’s an original Monet.”

“No shit,” he murmured. He drew close and stared. “Huh. I have a few nice pieces myself but…”

Havily tried not to smile and at the same time tried to ignore the swell of her heart. “Let me guess. You get turned on by the car photos in magazines—you know, the dark, moody pictures in black and white with the light angled to gleam off sleek sculpted lines and magnesium rims.”

He lifted his brows. “I suppose you’ll despise me for that.”

She shook her head. She even shrugged. “How can I when I subscribe to
Vanity Fair
and
Cosmo
and think that the Paris and New York designers should form a committee to rule Mortal Earth, Vera Wang to serve as their high queen, of course.”

He smiled. He even chuckled. “So … do you have any idea how we’re supposed to locate this mortal-with-wings?”

Havily processed the question and what lay behind it. She had to admit she was surprised: Apparently he didn’t think she was a complete moron. What a novel experience.

She nodded. “I do recall an anomaly from Alison’s rite of ascension. Thorne mentioned it more than once, and we were all shocked. Even before she ascended, she was so powerful that her signature showed up on the grid, on Mortal Earth.” Mortals never showed up on the grid. Ascenders, yes. Mortals, no.

“That’s right,” Marcus said, nodding. “I remember Medichi talking about it. So you think it might be possible?”

“Why not?” she said. “She’s a mortal female
with wings.
That has to indicate an incomprehensible level of power.”

“Let’s do it then.”

Havily pulled out her phone again and touched the screen. “Hey, Jeannie. What would it take to utilize Central’s grid for a couple of hours to hunt for a powerful mortal?”

“How powerful?”

“Like Alison.”

Jeannie whistled then tapped on the keyboard. “Well, we just have to punch in new searching coordinates. There is a problem, however. We use the grid one hundred percent of the time to scan for death vampires active on Mortal Earth; that way we know where to send the warriors. So what’s goin’ on?”

Havily explained the mission.

“Wow, a mortal-with-wings. It should work, but I don’t have the authority to switch coordinates.”

“Can you talk it over with Thorne?” As the leader of the Warriors of the Blood and the one who handed out the assignments every night and generally kept the brothers’ activities coordinated, he would be able to say yea or nay.

“You bet. Stay on the line.”

“Of course.”

Havily moved to the table in the very center of the foyer, a large, round, inlaid piece on a massive pedestal. An artistic arrangement sat in the center of the table composed of stems, dried seedpods, mosses, tall branches, and living magnolia blossoms. The entire edifice was nearly seven feet tall.

Marcus took a tour of the space from the bank of French doors, past the art on each wall, making a complete circuit as Havily kept her phone pressed to her ear and waited. He wore a slight frown.

“I want to do better at this,” he said.