“Yes, you have some spirit. I’ll give you that.” Vela thought about his earlier remark, that Sharav had gone through some hoops to get Samuel back. “So, let me understand, you designed this whole situation, to get Samuel under your control again?”
“Everything having to do with Duncan, yes.”
“Why? What can Samuel possibly mean to you?”
“You’ve felt his power, so you know that he possesses enormous potential. I just wasn’t able to bring it to fullness before he escaped.”
“Was I part of the plan?” Sharav turned toward her more fully.
“No, which makes you extremely problematic for me on many levels.”
“Oh, I see. Even though you were in the future streams, at the Illinois Seers Palace, you never saw me coming?”
“It won’t hurt now to tell you the truth, but no, I didn’t. You are one big annoying surprise.”
“Well, at least I have that,” she said, holding his gaze steady. “That I’ve annoyed you.” He moved closer and before she could even prepare, he slapped her hard across the face. The sting hurt, the surprise of it frightened her, but it was the ensuing pain that made her head hang. Her jaw felt like he’d just crushed it with that blow and a couple of her teeth were loose.
She felt her vampire healing kick in and did nothing else except let it flow.
Just in case, she could figure some way out of this mess, she at least needed her jaw and head intact.
Sharav moved toward Samuel. Vela could see him through a blur of watery eyes, another unwelcome effect of the blow. She blinked until the tears disappeared.
The goateed asshole approached Samuel from the front, folded off Samuel’s weapons harness, and planted one hand on the center of his chest and one hand on his forehead.
Samuel’s body jerked hard but he lifted his head, his eyes rolling. “Fuck,” he murmured. Then, “Vela?” I’m here. To your right. I’m alive.
He tried to turn his head toward her but Sharav caught his face in his hands. “I have you back now, my boy. This time, nothing will take you from me and this time, we’re going to tap that power deep and bring it forward for all to see. In fact, we’re going to do it right now.”
“Fuck you, Sharav.”
“You’re slurring because one of my wreckers hit you across the back of your head and you’re still not quite in control.” He lifted Samuel’s arm and gave it a tug, which set the ceiling hook pivoting a quarter turn.
Vela could see his face now. He had to work at focusing.
“There’s your woman. Don’t worry.
She’s all right. I just had to shut her up.” What did he do to you?
Doesn’t matter.
She looked into Samuel’s gray eyes, and saw his determination grow. She could feel it, that he was trying to access the killing part of his power.
So could Sharav, because he stepped away from him. At the same time, Samuel’s dark, grayle mist flowed from his body, that part of his mist-power that he could control.
“Good,” Sharav said. “Let it build, that angry stream of rage that has lived in you since our time together in Honduras Two. Every lash, every cut, every bruise brought this power to the surface.
“Release it, Samuel. Let me see the power that got you out of that prison- fortress, the one that Endelle’s grid could never find.” Vela sensed Samuel’s power rising, the same power that he feared to release more than anything else in his life.
She began to hope. She knew Samuel’s mind and the rage he carried toward Sharav, his desire to kill him. If Samuel could use all that power, aim it at Sharav...
But even as the thought flowed through her head, she knew exactly what was going to happen.
Samuel, she began, Don’t! This is what he wants!
But Samuel had blocked her, his mist flowing in streams, though not like before, much heavier this time and whipping from side-to-side.
“No,” she shouted. “Samuel, no!” But Samuel focused his attention on Sharav, whose eyes glowed, and who murmured quietly, “Weakling.” That did it.
Samuel’s secondary grayle power rose, a dark stream of energy that poured from him, straight at Sharav.
For a moment, hope soared, but Sharav merely smiled, lifted his hand, and Samuel’s terrible, deadly energy angled off his palm and hit Vela square in the chest.
She jerked hard as a sensation like lightning struck her body.
She expected her heart to stop working all at once, but on some level, she recognized and loved that power, knew it to be essentially all Samuel.
Some of the power shunted through her system to invade her arms and legs, but the rest began a slow, painful intrusion in the direction of her heart. Her breath came in gasps.
Vela. I can’t stop this.
I know.
Hold on.
Vela felt the power driving into her chest in fractional increments. She tried to set up a shield but failed. She tried mentally to move it elsewhere, but couldn’t.
“Sharav,” Samuel cried out. “Let her go. She’s done nothing.”
“She’s interfered and made my life difficult. We’ve lost several excellent wreckers because of her. She must die but I wanted you to be involved, to enjoy the moment, the pure poetry of it.” Sharav then released his palm and for a split-second, Vela hoped this one act would end the stream, instead, the flow of Samuel’s power became a straight arrow toward Vela, doubling in strength.
But Sharav frowned. “She has more power than I thought, to have withstood your grayle stream this long.” The words meant something to Vela, striking a deep chord, one that Samuel had touched on earlier, about her life and her choices, about what the death vampire attack had done to her. Somehow the answer to this brutal situation lay within those words, that she had more power than even Sharav knew and that to get out of this situation, she needed to believe in who she was, who she’d always been.
When she thought of that attack so many decades ago, a new awareness came to her, that Jeff had heard her calling to him. But that wasn’t possible because she’d screamed from her mind, a telepathic cry, and he didn’t have advanced mind-to-mind abilities. Yet that was exactly what had happened. She’d called out for help, her mind to his, directing those thoughts outside herself, and Jeff had come.
She had essentially rescued herself.
But what good would that do in this situation? She might be able to reach Endelle telepathically, but even Her Supremeness couldn’t access the Third grid or even fold to Third because the portal was sealed up tight. She was on her own.
Samuel couldn’t believe that he was killing the woman he loved, the thing he’d feared the most, that somehow his power would escape him and he’d murder another innocent. He just never thought it would be Vela because he’d been so careful.
And he had no control over the stream of energy, no shut-off switch.
He tried to remember how he’d stopped it while in Honduras. He remembered running, but the power still trailed from him, and reached for anything living as he ran forward. He’d become a vampire killing machine.
Duncan had escaped because he’d warned him to fold the hell out of the region, otherwise he would have died that day as well.
He’d reached the top of a hill and screamed his rage until he’d fallen unconscious. And maybe that was what he needed to do right now. He started to shout but Sharav placed a hand on his head and he couldn’t move.
“Just stay focused, just like this.” Samuel couldn’t move, couldn’t do a damn thing.
He met Vela’s gaze and mouthed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Me, too. My fault. I was stubborn. I should have listened to you about who I am. Now it’s too late.
He agonized as his dark power streamed toward her, hurting her, driving toward her heart, seeking her death.
How he loved this woman.
He grew very still in his spirit and his thoughts took a new direction as in how he’d ended up here. What had he done wrong? Not seen?
He’d tried to avoid this exact situation, yet here he hung, the flip side of hi s grayle power pummeling an innocent woman. He thought he’d had a good handle on protecting those around him, by restraining his power and refusing to allow Vela to mind-dive.
He understood now that Sharav had been using him as some kind of experiment, to transform him perhaps into a Third Earth warrior that could be controlled, made into a weapon for Chustaffus or one of the other faction leaders.
As past images flowed through his mind, a shadowy figure emerged and he knew then that Chustaffus had been to Honduras Two on more than one occasion, maybe even directing the experiments. A feeling of age flowed toward him and around him as he remembered Chustaffus. An ancient evil.
He recalled Vela saying to him so recently that he had a real problem connecting and suddenly the pieces fell together in his mind. He’d refused to let her in because it seemed the safest bet, but not because of his dangerous power, but because he’d never let anyone in before, not once in his long life. His rugged man’s life had taught him to keep close connections at bay, with everyone.
And she’d been right about the Warriors of the Blood. A close knit group like that demanded connection, deeper than he’d ever had with any of the Militia Warriors, not Duncan, not Gideon, not any of them.
I want you to mind-dive, Vela.
She lifted her weary head to look at him, her breaths in shallow pants as his grayle stream pressed into her. “You want me to mind-dive?” she said aloud.
Sharav laughed. “Yes, do that Vela.
Mind-dive and let all that power take out your brain.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Sharav?” Samuel asked.
“Very much. Death can be a beautiful thing to watch, a kind of thrill that never ceases to please.” A red hue colored his cheeks as he licked his lips, as if hungry for more.
Samuel turned toward the woman he loved, his breh, and then he understood what needed to be done, how he fit with Vela, how their powers could mesh, if he would only let her in. “Mind-dive, Vela.