She knew that the Seattle One hidden colony had a strict policy of keeping electricity-based light usage low in order to sustain the colony’s secrecy. The overhead web of moss-based mist could only go so far in cloaking the colony.
Excitement permeated the air.
When the first four Militia Warriors parted, she had a view of the ascenders waiting for her at the bottom of the platform. There were two women and four men, and she smiled since she knew them all.
Jean-Pierre stood with his arm draped over Fiona’s shoulder, his fingers laced through hers. They were both listening to Jean-Pierre’s great-grandson Arthur tell a story of some kind. She still couldn’t get over how much Arthur could have been Jean-Pierre’s twin.
Thorne stood slightly turned away from Fiona, his hand on Marguerite’s hip. She faced Leto and punched a finger into his weapons harness at pec height and was telling him something quite firmly. Thorne didn’t look happy. He kept batting her finger away from Leto.
Leto backed up a step. Grace thought she knew what was going on, so she extended her hearing; sure enough, Thorne had set up a possessive growl. Yep, her brother was growling at Leto.
Marguerite whirled on Thorne and shoved at his chest with both hands, but he didn’t budge. He just glared at Leto over her head until she finally reached up and kissed him flush on the lips. She had to reach pretty far since Marguerite was the short one of the group at only five-five. She was also very pregnant. Thorne froze and kind of melted all over her, apologizing and kissing her neck and her chin.
Leto stood back from them, but he was smiling and shaking his head.
She heard Arthur’s voice as he said, “Holy shit, is that Grace?”
She glanced in his direction and once more felt a sudden heat rise on her cheeks.
“Grace?” Thorne’s gravelly voice cut through all the chatter. “Is that you?”
She shifted to meet Thorne’s surprised gaze. He was looking her up and down. She nodded.
He ran toward her and her heart warmed up. Was this Thorne? He actually smiled. He was holding her in his arms and twirling her in a circle until her legs and fairly full skirt flowed away from her. She must have looked like a large flag.
When at last she was begging him to stop, he set her down and he was grinning from ear to ear. She quickly adjusted her clothes, pulling the waist of her skirt up and the hem of her top down.
Leto moved up next to her. She heard him giving orders to Gideon and his men, but Grace was focused on her brother. “Thorne, you look so different—and can I say, wow, you actually look happy.”
Thorne extended his arm to Marguerite. “I am happy, and here’s the reason why.”
Marguerite led with her belly. Her hair was still short and very blond, which seemed to enhance her large brown eyes. She looked adorable. Grace greeted her with a hug, though she had to lean down to do it. They’d been cellmates in the Convent, and good friends. She’d missed Marguerite.
Thorne’s arm was immediately around his breh’s waist, part protective, part possessive, and a big part just wonderful affection. Marguerite put her hand on Thorne’s.
“So you’ve come home,” Marguerite said. “I heard you were on Fourth.”
“I was.”
“What’s it like up there?”
“Beautiful. I stayed at Beatrice’s palace. It was similar to Endelle’s palace but practical, with more hallways and private rooms, a lovely and very large central courtyard with plants from all over the world. And a hanging garden off the second-story balconies.” She felt shy again, since everyone was staring at her. “Oh, I guess I forgot the most important part. Many of the homes, like Beatrice’s, float in the air.”
“No shit,” Marguerite said. She then patted her belly. “Sorry, kids.” She glanced back at Grace and lowered her voice. “We’re trying to curb warrior-speak. But, hey, I’m so glad you’re back. We all are.”
“It’s good to be back.”
Thorne brought Fiona forward next. She was the gold variety of obsidian flame, the first to discover her power. Jean-Pierre and Arthur rounded out the half circle on the left, next to Thorne, with Leto on the right.
As Fiona drew close, Grace felt her obsidian power begin to vibrate and rise through the bottoms of her feet as though originating from deep in the earth.
“What’s happening?” Thorne asked.
Since Marguerite was already close, Grace glanced at each of them. Power vibrated from one to the next, flowing and rippling. As though they’d always done so, they touched shoulders and formed a circle.
“Oh, the babies are kicking like crazy now,” Marguerite murmured.