“One of my favorites, catching the currents that stream down all those gullies, and inlets, through the canyon.”
“We’ll do that,” he repeated, nodding.
He was more open than she’d supposed he would be. Then he turned the tables, but instead of asking her questions, he told her what he knew about her from mind-diving. He spoke for a long time as he recalled the images he’d seen.
She laughed at some, was embarrassed by others, let a few more tears fall, and finally got all worked up when he mentioned a couple of her lovers and began growling against her neck. One thing led to another and he was inside her again, thrusting hard and making her groan, whimper, and cry out all over again.
She fell asleep afterwards, not even aware she’d done so.
Samuel woke her up much later by caressing her arm gently and whispering, “It’s eleven thirty. Our chain-smoking host will be back soon.”
Samuel heard Merl calling to him, just as Vela emerged from the bathroom, her thick blond hair, now loose with that wild look he really liked. She wore fresh clothes; a pair of dark blue jeans and a light blue tank. She shrugged into a mottled blue sweater. She wore black flats. He had to restrain a sudden impulse to take her in his arms again.
He cleared his throat. “Merl’s back.” He felt her tense up immediately, aware, just as he was, that they’d be taking their next step right now.
He took her hand. “We’ll figure this out.” He’d been making war a long time, but Vela had no experience at all, which set his nerves on edge. From the brief encounter he’d had with the darkening, the wreckers had power, skill, and deadly intent. And he had no idea how they’d be able to get around them to secure Duncan and pull him out of his Third prison.
But then again, some problems could only be solved one step at a time.
He led her back to the open, tall- ceilinged living room, but he didn’t get far. Damn that Merl. The bastard was dressed to kill in a too-tight black t-shirt, his pecs flexing below the ceiling pot- lights. He wore black leather pants and boots with silver goddamn buckles. His dark hair, combed straight back, gave him that come-and-get-it look.
And he wore his smirk with fucking pride, his hazel eyes flashing with challenge.
Still holding Vela’s hand, Samuel pulled her close, but she shoved at him.
“You’re hurting me.” He turned to her scowling. “What?” She held up their joined hands. “This hurts. Let go. Now.”
“Fuck. Sorry.” The breh-hedden had fired up his caveman instincts, putting them in overdrive. He released her hand, but he couldn’t help stepping in front of her just a little.
He heard her groan and he was pretty sure she’d just rolled her eyes. She breezed past him anyway, which ignited two disparate sensations at once: a sudden profound desire to haul her back to the bedroom and teach her what she needed to know about being his woman and pride that she wasn’t cowed by his stupid behavior.
Conflicted as he was, he followed after her and somehow managed to keep his hands to himself. At least she had the good sense to stop fifteen-feet away from Merl. Any closer, and he’d be wrestling all over again with a man who clearly had more power than he did. But like hell he would care about that. Maybe he’d tap into more of his power and wouldn’t that be a kick in the balls for the asshole still smirking at him.
“Don’t tell me you wasted all this time I gave you in a perfectly empty house,” Merl taunted. “What? Couldn’t get it up?” That did it. He started to release his dark power when suddenly Vela stood in front of him, both hands planted on his chest. “We are so not doing this,” she shouted.
He took a step back. He even lifted both hands in surrender.
He was about to start apologizing or something, but Vela then turned all that feminine rage on Merl. “And you! You’re the worst. Why do you taunt my man like that?” Her man? She’d called him her man?
He started growling a soft kind of purr as he moved in behind her.
But she jerked away from him again and shook her finger at him. “Would you please get hold of this caveman shit before I go ballistic.” She turned the same menacing finger on Merl. “Both of you!” When Merl also did his face-the- sheriff stance, hands up, she flared her nostrils in the prettiest way, lifted one brow, then shifted slowly in Merl’s direction. “Okay, that’s a little better.
Now what did your Third refugee associates have to say about our little predicament? How do we get to Duncan?”
“I hate to tell you this, but after debating your situation for the past several hours, we don’t have an answer. You can’t get to him.”
“What? What do you mean we can’t?” He shrugged. “You fucking can’t.
Ascender Alison closed up the Gateway to Third right after she opened it. And I think Sixth Ascender, James or Braulio, or whatever the hell his name is, added his own mojo. That baby’s locked up tight.
No one in, no one out.”
“But you said Third Ascenders have been making their way into this dimension.”
“I think Sharav may have rigged something up, but I sure as hell don’t know how to access it.”“I just don’t understand,” Vela said.
“I know that Grace could fold to Fourth, no problem.”
“Fourth is a more advanced, open society. They went through the Council of Sixth, millennia ago, and as a society agreed to open their Gateway. The Council has a say in all Gateway matters.
But Fourth is the exception.
“And since Second Earth contains generally less powerful entities, except Endelle of course and Thorne, who is showing immense promise, well, it looks like Sharav, no doubt with Chustaffus’s blessing, has found a way through.” Vela looked back at the wall that held the darkening gate. “What if we got hold of a wrecker’s shotgun. We could then blow a hole in the darkening wall of Duncan’s prison and bring him out that way.”
“What a great plan,” Merl said sarcastically. At the same time, he drew a lit cigarette into his hand from who knew where. He took a long pull, one eye squinting. “Just tell me one thing: How are you going to get a weapon away from a goddamn wrecker?” Vela narrowed her gaze. “You know, for a man with power, you sure don’t show much game.” Samuel snorted. Merl blew smoke in Vela’s direction. “I’m gonna let that go because you have no idea what would be involved.”
“Then tell us, so we can be astounded at how stupid my suggestion was.” He sank into what seemed to be his favorite corner chair, leaning his head against the back cushion. He stared at Vela, but no smirk this time. Samuel liked him like this, less smooth, more I’m pissed at you.
“Fine. Your first problem is that wrecker weapons are identified, like swords. And I don’t know anyone who can alter an identification like that.” But Vela glanced at Samuel. “I do.
Alison altered Leto’s sword identification at the Tolleson arena battle.”
“That’s right.” Samuel hadn’t yet escaped from his captivity when Alison went through her rite of ascension, a process that for her had involved battling Warrior Leto in an arena, sword-on- sword. “I heard about that.” Merl puffed on his cigarette again.
“But swords are different than wrecker weapons.” Vela waved a hand dismissively.
“Let’s say we get hold of a weapon, and we can alter the identification, what next?
You’ve operated one, how do you use it?” Merl frowned at her, his brows pinching together. “You’re serious.”
“I think it’s a place to begin. So unless you have a better idea?”
“Fine.
I suppose if wrecker technology hasn’t changed all that much in fifty years, you just pull the trigger while releasing a jolt of your own personal power. But I think you’re out of your mind to even consider doing this. So why are you?”
“It’s simple. I know Duncan, and Rachel is my friend.”
“Who’s Rachel?” He took another drag, his elbow on the arm of the chair.
“Duncan’s on-again, off-again girlfriend. Mostly off. So, let’s just say that I believe it’s my duty to do everything I can to help Duncan. His plight came to me in a darkening vision and that’s all that needs to be said anymore. I go where I’m called, just as I came here when we were being pursued by wreckers.” Merl shifted his gaze to the toe of his boot. “You’re an idealist.” Vela laughed. “No, I’m not. Far from it, and I do understand the hopelessness of this situation. But I don’t intend to give up.” He met her gaze once more. “Even it means dying in the process?” Vela didn’t shift her gaze from Merl.
“Yes, even if it means dying.”
“Well, fuck.”
Chapter Six
Vela heard the words come out of her mouth, but she still didn’t quite believe that she’d become this person, where her new darkening power was concerned. Yet there seemed no alternate response to the truth that her power had brought her to Duncan’s cell. Responsibility for him had descended on her; and she would see this through, even in the face of death.
Samuel worked his molars again. “I think we need to bring Alison and Fiona in on this.” Vela frowned. “I can understand Alison, but why Fiona?”
“Because she has the ability to enhance power. If the four of us were in the darkening, and figured out a way to draw one of the wreckers close enough, I could use my dark power and force the weapon away from the wrecker. Then Alison could do her thing.”
“Can she even reconfigure a weapon like that?”
“Well, we’d know soon enough.
Then once we had the weapon, we could go after Duncan.”
“It won’t work.” Merl rested his jaw on his curved hand, his fingers holding the lit cigarette away from his face.
“Which part?” Vela turned to Samuel because they’d each said the same thing at the same time. She smiled and his lips curved. He nodded.