Leto bent over at the waist, breathing hard. He still had his sword in hand. His gaze drifted back and forth. If Greaves intended to add to the party, he was ready.
“Thank you,” Casimir said.
Leto glanced at him. He was trying to be mature about the presence of the Fourth ascender since it was clear the whole situation was an ascended convergence, but he still resented Casimir for having taken Grace away. He nodded, then reverted his attention to the corpses. Three of the death vamps needed finishing, so he moved swiftly and took heads.
He took one more long look around, but everything seemed quiet. Satisfied that he wasn’t still under attack, he glanced up at the mist.
Greaves.
Did he really think he could take Leto this way? Was that his purpose?
Then his chest tightened with one simple thought: Grace might be alone in the garden.
He folded to the lane beyond the mist, but the moment he did, his mind felt as though it had just been struck down by a mallet. He couldn’t give shape to his thoughts. Even his body felt heavy and unmovable. But why? What was happening to him?
Casimir materialized next to him. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
Leto struggled to find the words. “Help Grace. Protect her.”
“No can do. I stay with you, Leto. Sorry. And it looks like Greaves is using his thrall power on you.”
“Fuck.” He had to get to Grace. He could sense she was in danger. For one thing, he couldn’t feel her anymore, not any of her physical sensations.
With great difficulty, he rose from the dirt lane and peered up at Diallo’s large house that overlooked the valley. She was up there, waiting for him. She had agreed to wait, to stay in the garden. At least three squads of Militia Warriors had set up a command center in the house, and Gideon had just gone up there a few minutes ago. She should be safe.
Yet somehow, he knew she wasn’t.
He called to her, mind-to-mind. Grace, Grace.
No answer, which was not possible. They were bonded.
He tried to fold up to the house but couldn’t. He began to walk the long driveway, one uphill step in front of the other. He focused on Grace, but thinking about her only made his mind muddier.
Instead, he focused on Gideon.
That was better. Gideon. One foot in front of the other.
Casimir walked beside him. He glanced at him, even though it was difficult. He sent, Can you fold me to the house?
“I’ll try.” Casimir put his hand on Leto’s shoulder. He could feel the attempt to fold him, but Casimir couldn’t do it, either. Sorry, Leto. This is Greaves’s party.
Greaves. That ass**le.
But the moment he thought of the Commander, he fell to his knees and a terrible pain sliced through his mind.
Oh, shit. Once more he shifted his focus to thoughts of Gideon. He kept what was left of his mind centered on the Militia Warrior. Gideon was tall. Yes. He was at Warrior of the Blood level now, but he refused to leave the Thunder God Warriors. Jean-Pierre had brought Gideon’s powers online. Yes, his brother warrior, Jean-Pierre, had developed new powers once he completed the breh-hedden with Fiona. He could now lift other warriors up to higher levels. Yes, that was what Jean-Pierre could do, and that was what he had done for Gideon.
He just had to keep thinking about Gideon or Jean-Pierre.
His feet were so heavy, but it didn’t matter. He understood that his breh was in trouble, but he wouldn’t think her name.
On and on he pressed, but it was like moving through a nightmare. Finally, he made it to the front walk. At last, he pushed the door open. Two Militia Warriors drew their swords to challenge him, though they immediately backed off when they recognized who he was.
“Forgive us, Warrior Leto.” Each looked him up and down because he was still in his beast-form.
“Gideon,” he whispered. His voice sounded hoarse, and he’d barely been able to get the word out.
They called for Gideon. He came running. He had blond hair, but not so dark as Jean-Pierre’s, nor so light as Luken’s.
“Warrior Leto, what’s wrong? You’re covered in blood. Are you injured?”
He put his hand on Gideon’s shoulder and breathed hard as he said, “Grace. Danger.”
“She’s in the garden. Shit, what the f**k has happened?”
“Go to her.”
Gideon called his men in close, and as one powerful unit they marched into the garden calling Grace’s name.
* * *
Greaves was sweating and exhausted. The effort to mind-control two such powerful ascenders, in two separate locations, was costing him. But he was close to shutting Grace’s mind down, getting her to agree to go with him, and the longer he worked her mind, the more he could feel her resistance breaking down.
Come with me. Say the word out loud, and I will fold you to my home in Geneva. Say that you agree to come with me.
Her lips moved. Her jaw worked. She lifted her face to him. I want …
The next moment he heard Militia Warriors shouting. They were calling for Grace. He was out of time. Though he had mist around himself and Grace, the garden was small and the most any of the warriors had to do was to just push through. Or fold.
“Over here.”
Greaves heard Casimir directing traffic. Shit.
“Gideon, break through here.”
Grace, say you’ll come with me.
* * *
Grace was growing weary, fighting against Greaves. She knew if she said yes, it would feel so good. But something deep inside her, perhaps even her soul, refused to give up. If only she could open her eyes.
She felt a strange sliding up and down her arms, and she heard her name called as if from a great distance.
She wouldn’t go with him. “No,” she said, and her voice sounded stronger. “No. I won’t go with you.”
“Come back to me.”
“No.” She began to struggle against the arms now gripping and shaking her. She slashed out at Greaves with her fingernails and screamed at him.
Then suddenly, Leto was in her mind. Grace. Grace. Can you hear me?
Leto?
I’m here.
She fought harder and flew at Greaves. She started screaming and pushing at him, clawing at his face, kicking him. She wouldn’t go. She would never go with him willingly.
“Open your eyes.”
But it wasn’t Greaves’s voice that she heard.
She forced herself to obey. Finally, she popped her eyes wide. Leto was in his beast-state standing beside the chaise, next to her. She was safe, but he had blood running down his face in deep scratches. “What happened to you?” she cried. Then she understood. “Oh, Creator help me, did I do that to you?”