Gates of Rapture(82)

But the repercussions would have been swift. Endelle would have gone to Prague and argued against him in front of the entire COPASS committee. He was simply unwilling to take that kind of risk at this late hour, not with a decisive battle looming before him.

He could feel the battle coming now, and with it his chance at securing his ambitions. In so many ways, he was fully prepared. He even had an ace up his sleeve, something no one knew about. If all else failed, he would use this specialized power and hopefully overcome whatever odds presented themselves.

Yet because of a mere woman, the key to obsidian flame, he was living a nightmare. All his plans had come down to Grace and her ability to fulfill the power latent in the triad. He understood that once a triad came together, there was always one member who could acquire the abilities of other ascenders. The nature of the power or ability didn’t matter—from wielding a sword to healing the mind to throwing hand-blasts. Once that triad member learned the skill, obsidian flame could then magnify that skill a thousandfold. He knew for a fact that there was at least one triad operating on Third Earth. He had witnessed for himself a valley of warriors slain by a single hand-blast, and in turn he had seen a hundred thousand people folded out of the path of a flash flood.

If only he’d had been able to persuade Grace to surrender to him, he could have turned her over to his favorite death vampires and let them dispose of her.

But she had held steady to the end. He had failed.

His blood finally settled down so that he could ease himself up off the floor. He showered and changed into a fresh Hugo Boss suit. He put on his pinkie ring of black onyx. He would head to Estrella next and continue working military strategies with his generals.

Before leaving, Greaves checked on Julianna, his current love-slave. She was facedown on the bed, naked, a sheet just covering her buttocks. Her wing-locks were torn but healing well. Their last session had been one of the best yet. Despite his arousal while feeling Grace’s earth-based power, Julianna was his preference. The claw that he could bring forth from his DNA-altered left hand tingled at the thought that she might be healed as early as noon, at which time they could enjoy another energetic half hour or so.

He glanced at her nightstand and frowned. There was a vase with at least two dozen long-stemmed peach-colored roses in it. He saw a card on the table.

He wondered if someone was attempting to seduce his woman. Casimir had once held Julianna captive in his Paris One apartment. Maybe he wasn’t as reformed as he appeared.

Greaves moved to the table and read the card. He couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes he thought he and Stannett were brothers. The words on the card, in Stannett’s hand, were very simple, “Grace has come home. Casimir, too.”

He saw something gleam behind the vase. Ah, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Julianna had needed some solace.

He leaned down and kissed one of the upper shredded wing-locks. “Patience,” he whispered. “You will have your chance to destroy one or both of them, I have no doubt.”

Grace had stolen Caz away from her, and to a woman of Julianna’s temperament, that was an unforgiveable sin.



Grace sat across from Leto in the Apache Two conference room, her arms folded over her chest. It was past midnight now, and all the events of the day and evening had taken a toll. She was beyond exhausted. But no decision had been made yet about where they would settle down for the rest of the night. Leto had reverted to his normal size, and he’d changed from his stained battle gear into jeans and a dark T-shirt. He’d even showered in the Militia Warriors locker room.

The recent encounter with Greaves had shaken her. The bastard, for she could think of him as nothing less in this moment, had almost taken possession of her. She’d almost given herself into his power. She shuddered. She had no doubt that once she’d agreed to go with him, he would have had her killed.

She chewed on the inside of her lip.

Leto met her gaze. “Grace, please talk to me.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely between his legs. He looked so beautiful, and so different from Greaves. Leto had wonderful thick raven-black hair. She loved feeling his hair. She reached out and touched it now.

Greaves was bald. That circumstance alone should have made her fight him. She still couldn’t believe that he’d been able to place her in thrall like that.

“I don’t know what happened, and I’m frightened. He almost had me.” She shivered and hugged herself tighter.

“Grace, I can feel how tense you are. I just wish I could have gotten to you sooner. But as soon as Casimir and I defeated the death vampires and I folded out of Greaves’s mist, I could hardly move. If I thought about you, I experienced such pain.”