“I’m glad to hear you say so. But what I need—besides the blocks against Endelle’s Seers—is any information about when to attack the spectacle parade. Do you understand?” Greaves levitated, then slowly descended into the pit until he stood at the foot of Stannett’s chaise longue. Greaves waved the bucket away.
The female Militia Warrior stepped back, saying, “I’ll be back shortly with fresh Seers.” Greaves nodded. She vanished.
Stannett took deep breaths. It didn’t help his nausea problem that Greaves smelled of lemon furniture polish.
Greaves glanced left and right. “There is blood on the leather.”
“The women tend to bleed from various apertures, including their wing-locks, when the process overwhelms them.”
“I see.” He glanced back at Stannett. “So, how are you keeping our plans blocked in the future streams right now if the women keep dying on you?”
Stannett smirked. “I have power. It sometimes doesn’t show as much as perhaps it should, but I’m holding it steady. The effort has given me a monstrous headache, which is why I’m puking.”
Greaves’s smile softened. “Let me help with that.” He rounded the side of the chaise and put a hand on Stannett’s forehead. The pain drifted away like fog beneath the sun.
He looked up at Greaves and released a deep breath. “Thank you, master.”
“Keep blocking our side of things, and if you can find an inroad to secure the intentions and timing of the opposition, let me know.”
“Yes, master.”
Greaves lifted his hand and was gone.
Stannett released a deep breath. He had grown sick of this endless pressure to produce and perform. Greaves didn’t understand his need for autonomy. Yes, he’d lacked control, but he was doing better now and he didn’t like being hemmed in.
The Militia Warrior returned and changed out the Seers, whipping them on the legs when they uttered even the smallest sound. She struck one Seer across the face with her whip when she dared to ask where she was. The welt would last a long time.
Stannett followed his jailer’s movements. Certain ideas had taken root in his mind of a profound sense of ill usage. Once the female Seers were strapped in, Stannett put them in the usual stupor. Afterward, he rose from his chaise longue. Time to make a change of his own.
“Is there a problem, Seer?” the woman barked. She wasn’t a woman, not really. Very flat-chested, proud of her muscles. She probably wished she were a man.
“No problem,” he said. He levitated to the viewing platform just a few feet from her. He kept advancing toward her.
She narrowed her gaze. “What the f**k do you think you’re doing? Get back down into the pit and get back to work. Or did you not hear the master, not understand his critical need for your services right now?”
“I heard him and I understood him.” Stannett hadn’t planned out exactly what he intended to do.
He lifted his hand and sent a blast soaring through the air straight for the woman. She didn’t really have time to react. She flew backward and hit the wall with a loud thudding sound. She fell to the floor.
Stannett’s brows rose. Her entire chest was caved in and smoking. He’d killed her.
He wanted to feel bad, he really did, but his appetites had reasserted themselves. He left her where she was and returned to the pit and to his chaise longue.
He stretched back out. He looked inward and physically ascertained what he already knew, that the blocks held. Now to get the relief he needed.
He slipped into the future streams, joined his power with the six women, and let the pleasure flow. The first orgasm hit him before fifteen seconds had passed.
* * *
“I want a shower,” Grace whispered, sitting on the black mats at the Militia Warrior workout center once more. “Dear God, I long for a shower.”
Leto smiled. He sat behind her and rubbed her shoulders. It was almost five thirty—not even three hours till the spectacle. He had spent the day securing the location of Greaves’s artillery through his computer and put Gideon in charge of making sure Thorne was alerted when any of the sites lit up.
All during that time, he had taken numerous breaks to watch obsidian flame work as a team. He saw Thorne’s role clearly, the same one he performed as the leader of the Allied Ascender Forces, Endelle’s army. He kept everything headed in the right direction. Thorne held things together, or—as he liked to say—he was the anchor to obsidian flame.
With such a massive undertaking, the triad critically needed an anchor, someone with a com who could make split-second decisions, someone who had preternatural power of his own to do whatever needed to be done.
It was the one thing that gave Leto some peace in what had become his own battle of worn-out nerves as the afternoon advanced. However, right now they all needed some downtime.
Thorne finally released the triad and made it possible for all three couples to return to their homes. He also let security know so that the folding could be done straight from the workout room.
Leto rose to his feet with Grace, took her hand, and folded her back to the villa bedroom. He laughed, because before he could say a word he heard the water running. She’d flipped the levers using a little kinetic manipulation. “Yeah, I guess you do want your shower.”
Grace laughed. “You should probably know this about me.” She gave him a quick kiss, then headed into what was now a roll of steam coming from the bathroom.
Of course as soon as he thought of her in the shower, naked, certain ideas flooded his mind.
He followed after her but frowned when he felt her no longer standing but sitting on the floor. Yeah, the sharing of external sensations always provided a lot of data to process.
He found her seated in front of the toilet, her arms around her knees.
He looked around and drew his sword, but they were alone. No death vamps this time.
“What’s the matter?”
She looked up at him and blinked a couple of times. “What if I can’t do this?”
Oh, that was all. Just a little pre-battle jitters. Of course, Grace wasn’t a warrior. She wouldn’t know just how normal this was.
“The whole time I was practicing,” she said, “I was fine. Really fine. Now all I can think is, Two hundred thousand at a time. And what if Stannett breaks through in the future streams and discovers our exact plan? What if Marguerite’s teams can’t sustain the blocks she’s put in place?”
Leto sat on the floor next to her and put his arm around her. This was where millennia of service as a warrior could be of use. “You’re not doing this alone, Grace, not by a long shot.” He rubbed her shoulder gently.