Gates of Rapture(32)

“Kind of sucks to be reformed, doesn’t it?” James offered.

Casimir met James’s gaze. He was short for an ascender, and all that gray hair led Caz to believe he wasn’t looking at James in his usual form. “You sound like you know where of you speak.”

James sighed. “I do. But I also know everything will work out just fine as long as I do what I need to do.”

“Are those words for the wise?”

James nodded.

“Fine. I’ll be respectful and stay focused on my mission.” He glanced around once more. “And I’ll make this area my home base.”

“It’s a good space. The door to your left leads to a comfortable suite with a bed, a kitchen, a living area, the usual.”

“Thanks.”

James gripped his arm suddenly. “Guard Leto. This is most important. Use your Fourth Earth hand-blast capability if you need to and don’t let him get killed. He’s critical for the future of Second Earth.”

“Understood.”

“And as soon as you can, present yourself to Madame Endelle as Leto’s guardian. Protocol demands that she accept your services.”



Leto held Grace’s arm pressed around his own as he led the group to the eastern side of the games where several sets of grandstands had been built. Diallo, who oversaw all administrative aspects of the colony, had designated a box for Leto’s use throughout the three days. Militia Warriors were posted at each end of the box as well.

As he walked, he kept glancing at Grace. She was so changed. She wore a crown of several small silver stars, and her hair was in a beautiful cloud that floated over her shoulders and down her back. She wore makeup and jewelry but it was her outfit that had his body in an uproar.

The top was sexy as hell and cut low enough to make his tongue tingle. Her cleavage was exquisite. Her skirt rode low on her hips so that more than once, when he reached for her, his hand hit bare flesh. He found himself grateful for a pair of snug briefs and a kilt. Both hid a multitude of sins, big sins.

He leaned forward and looked down to once more catch sight of the blue gem at her navel. His tongue tingled again. The sensation this time sent a vibration streaking down his left leg. He hissed softly, waiting for the mirror sensation to attack his other leg. If it did, he had six minutes to get to his basement; Diallo would have to take over the opening of the warrior games.

Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Grace asked. She leaned close. He released her, but only to slide his arm around her. “Nothing. That is…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

Your beast? she sent discreetly.

He met her gaze. Yes. I’m susceptible right now because you’re next to me.

She smiled, but in her eye was an unholy glint. I like your beast.

He guided her around a group of children. Your skirt and your blouse have my body desiring things I shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

She smiled again. Good.

Was this Grace?

He let go of her waist, because she felt too damn wonderful right now. He once more took her arm and was grateful to be distracted by all the well-wishers as he guided her toward the grandstands.

Several enormous screens, a PA system, and a number of cameras were set up to cover the events all up and down the valley as well as to send a secure live feed to the rest of the worldwide hidden colonies.

There were, however, no electric lights anywhere. Though Diallo, the creator of the system of hidden colonies, had perfected over hundreds of years the mossy mist that covered and protected all the colonies around the world, electrical usage was kept as low as possible. Dishes were washed by hand and clothes hung on lines to dry. Gas stoves were used instead of electric. Gas generators were the order of the day, and solar was gradually being implemented as the products improved. But mostly it was the light signatures themselves that were avoided. The grounds, therefore, were lit by torchlight.

That the games were filmed and sent overseas had required a team of advanced mist-makers to get the job done. But Diallo knew his stuff and so far, so good.

When he escorted Grace to the top of the grandstands, he led her first to the box on the left in which Diallo and his wife, Mei-Amadi, were seated. Diallo rose and took Grace’s hand. “I remember you well from your visit a few months back, but I don’t think you met my wife.” He placed his hand on Mei-Amadi’s back. The woman bowed slightly. She had lovely Asian eyes that gave her brown skin an exotic look. Overall, she was lighter-skinned than Diallo. Her hair was piled high on top of her head. She looked regal.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Grace said. “You both must be so pleased with the event tonight.”