Thorne shoved a hand through his hair, stopped mid-stride, and turned to Leto. “I don’t like it. Obsidian flame is untried, and you’re talking about combining a spectacle event with a series of massive folds?”
“You’ve got it,” Leto said. He took one of Grace’s hands in his. “Your sister has got some serious chops. And even you, as the anchor to obsidian flame, must have a sense of what the triad is capable of. Remember what it was like when Grace, while in possession of Fiona, battled Jean-Pierre with the sword?”
Thorne shook his head. “I am remembering. But the timing would have to be so precise, the locations fixed. Do you have any idea of the sheer logistics that we’re talking about? Obsidian flame would essentially be in flight during the military part of the review and at the same time doing all this secret folding of masses of warriors. How could it possibly work?”
Leto would have answered him, but Endelle rose to her feet. She still wore her leathers and a weapons harness, no octopus tentacles or badger pelts. She was strangely subdued and serious. “Thorne, what the f**k is the matter with you? This plan is genius, and you’re acting like a little girl.”
At that, he turned to her and laughed. He put a hand to his forehead. “Shit, I think you’re right. I guess it doesn’t help that we’re talking about my breh and my sister being involved in something incredibly dangerous.” He threw his hands in the air. “We’ll make it work.” His gaze slid to Grace. “You think you’re up for this?”
Leto rose to his feet at these words. “Hell, yeah, she’s up for this. You’ve been her overprotective brother too long. Grace can do anything.”
Thorne’s brows rose. He looked from one to the other.
Leto felt Grace’s hand slide into his, warmth against his palm. She gave his fingers a squeeze. He looked down at her and winked. She grinned. My God, had he ever seen her smile like that? He got lost for a moment just looking at her until he heard Endelle make a gagging sound.
When he glanced her direction, she said, “This goddam breh-hedden shit gives me the scratch. If I see one more couple making goo-goo eyes at each other, I’m gonna toss my cookies.”
“Goo-goo eyes?” Leto asked. “Really?”
She jerked a hand to encompass both Leto and Grace. “What would you f**king call that?”
“I was letting her know that I respect the hell out of her.”
“Fine. Whatever.” But a smile replaced all that disgust as Endelle held Leto’s gaze. “It’s a good plan. And do you really think half of Greaves’s force will come with you?”
Leto didn’t quite recognize the sensation that sped through him, but dammit, it felt like pride. “Yes. I do.”
“Hot damn. Well, it seems to me we’ve got some work to do, and I want Marcus in on this pronto.” She laughed. “He’s gonna have a field day with this one.”
The next hour was spent conferring with Marcus via video cam. As predicted, Marcus went into hyperspeed. Even while on the line, he left his station and started barking a dozen orders at his staff.
Leto sat beside Endelle, sharing in the conference. He met her gaze. “See what I mean?” she said. She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled some more, turning once more to stare at the screen as she waited for Marcus to come back.
He had never seen Endelle so relaxed. He got it. He really did. Much of the past twenty-plus centuries had been spent building to this moment.
Marcus returned, his eyes almost feverish. He demanded specifics, and Leto told him what he needed to know.
“We’re moving fast on this,” Marcus said. “Tomorrow night at eight, the triad will be in the air.”
Marcus then stated exactly what he needed to have happen before anything else. “I’ve got to have a photo op with the triad in full mount. A back view of the wings with the different-colored flames.”
“I’ll get on it,” Leto said. “We’ll use the Apache Junction Two workout center.”
“Good. That’s all for now.” Without saying anything more, he clicked off, and the screen went blank.
Endelle snorted then laughed. “Marguerite’s going to love this,” she drawled.
Leto frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Have you been around many pregnant women before?”
“Not really.”
“My suggestion, then, is that you stay the hell away from that photo op.”
Leto wasn’t sure what she meant, but he wasn’t too concerned. Not when right now he had to grapple with where to move a million warriors during a spectacle review.
* * *
An hour later, Grace hid her smiles behind her hand. She stood in the large workout center of the Militia Warrior HQ with her obsidian sisters, and Marguerite was very unhappy.
The meeting with Thorne and Endelle had ended with Endelle barking her orders. Obsidian flame would train at the workout center, Marcus and Havily would put the spectacle event together and begin a PR web-release campaign, Leto would contact his Division Leaders, and Thorne would help Leto establish endpoint fold locations for the troops.
But before the triad could begin practicing, Marcus had commandeered the women, insisting on a visual spread that focused on the triad’s unique wing coloration. Grace knew he was right to insist on it. The dark flame pattern and colors of each woman’s wings would make a striking display.
“I know I shouldn’t care,” Marguerite said, fluffing her short platinum curls, “but right now my pregnancy ass is the size of Arizona, and Marcus wants the wings photographed from the rear. Hell, no one will even see the wings. They’ll just ask why there’s a blimp supporting the black and red flames.”
Grace tried not to laugh, but Marguerite was so funny. On the other hand, when had a pregnant woman ever not been extra conscious of her figure?
Marguerite had on maternity flight gear that showed the full curve of a six-month-pregnant belly that held twins. From Grace’s point of view, she looked beautiful.
Marguerite splayed her fingers over her stomach. “And what about this? What’s Marcus going to do about this?”
“Marcus said he just wanted a shot of the wings from behind.”
“Ugh.”
The photographer set up her tripod and had a team with her who managed the lighting and staging. They’d brought a dark backdrop lit softly from below with a row of dim lights.
Grace took both of Marguerite’s hands. “You look more beautiful than you know, my idiot obsiddy sister.”