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He stood in Endelle’s office, leaning an arm on the mantel of a never-used fireplace. Windows formed the north and east walls. A scattering of lights glittered all across the base of Camelback Mountain. Phoenix in any dimension had interesting volcanic hills; this one was named for its shape.

The throne room, as Thorne called the seat of Endelle’s administration, was a comfortable space with dark wood floors covered with scattered zebra skins, more a man’s room, almost a trophy room, than the place where a bitch-on-wheels administered an entire world government.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what she had to cope with as Supreme High Administrator of Second, but right now he had his own problems, a big one with lovely blond hair and blue eyes rimmed with gold, a powerful mortal female, a woman, most likely approaching her call to ascension.

Alison.

Alison.

Christ.

He shoved his hand through his unbound hair. He shouldn’t have left that card on the cement step. He was interfering in the process. Bad things tended to follow interference.

The trouble was, he’d held her in his arms, this woman, Alison, and the smell of lavender clung to him like honey to skin. Every breath he took brought her scent deeper into his bones. He knew what was happening and he couldn’t stop it, yet he had no intention of doing a damn thing to help it along. He would fight to the death on this one.

And still he had left that damn card with her.

“Where the f**k is your cadroen, Warrior?”

Kerrick shifted his gaze back to Endelle. He stood up straighter. “On my sink.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“I’m just a little pissed off.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Now, you were telling me about the mortal female. She folded and I asked you about place and distance.”

He came to attention, slinging his left arm behind his back. He still wore his kilt and harness, both bloodied, hardly proper attire for offering up a report to the Supreme High Administrator, but she’d insisted on a meeting right after he’d left Paradise Valley. He told her what happened.

“She folded right in front of you. No shit.” Endelle’s perfectly arched brows rose. Her Supremeness was impressed.

She sat low in a cradle of her enormous wings—yellow feathers this time since she could change the color at will. She wore some kind of spotted hide dress—maybe leopard—which climbed up her thighs. He had no interest in Endelle, but she was extraordinarily beautiful, and he was after all a man. She had the exotic features of an Arabian princess, olive skin, thick black hair, but her dark eyes were unusual and had an almost wooded appearance, like rough tree bark. She was also dangerous and possessed powers he couldn’t begin to imagine. She wore stilettos, the long narrow heels reminding him of a pair of daggers.

Fitting.

Endelle had a scorpion’s temperament.

“I did a quick profile of her powers. She may have all of Second’s abilities.”

“Goddammit,” Endelle muttered. She plucked one of her feathers and ran it between her fingers. He winced. It hurt like hell to have a feather plucked but he supposed she’d been doing it so long the experience was similar to filing her nails. She continued, “The Commander’s going to want her and in a few hours this is going to turn into a f**king shitfest. Okay, so where exactly is she in her call to ascension?”

“I couldn’t get into her head.”

“What?” She actually shifted her legs off her desk and leaned forward to stare at him. “You couldn’t get into her head?”

“I could communicate telepathically, but she has shields like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Wow.” She nodded several times. “So, did you ask about her dreams?”

“I’m not a Liaison Officer and you know the rules. Even asking is considered a violation. She had no apparent prior knowledge of anything she saw, either the death vamp or me. Our world, therefore, hasn’t commanded her dreams, otherwise she should have known more than she did.”

“But her powers…?”

“Off the chart. Only your ascension came with the ability to dematerialize.”

“Damn straight. Well, she has to be in the middle of it. I’m playing this as though we have a major ascension in progress. I think it’s just a matter of time before she makes her way to one of the Borderlands.” She rubbed her forehead. He wondered if she ever slept. But then, none of them did right now, at least not a whole lot of hours strung together.

Sleep. What would that be like?

The feather she had plucked changed colors, from pink to amber to black to green, a kaleidoscope turning along with the flicks of her thumb and forefinger, all the absent workings of her thoughts.

His gaze shifted to the view from the north window. Night had fallen, and Camelback Mountain was in silhouette against a black sky lit with stars. The same location on Mortal Earth would have put her office somewhere near Sky Harbor Airport.

Madame Endelle’s administrative building sat in a group of elegant glass high-rises, each building wide at the base, like a pyramid, and staggered inward at each floor, allowing broad patio gardens to make up part of the overall design. By tapping into the underground rivers, the Valley of the Sun on Second Earth, in populated areas, took on a tropical feel. Broadleaf trees and citrus groves kept the temps down and the air clean. Healing greenbelts winding throughout the city were the norm.

She looked back at him. “Central said Greaves was on deck tonight.”

He nodded. “The mortal female is a therapist by profession. She served as his counselor, such as it was, for the space of a year.”

“No shit,” Endelle murmured. “So he’s known about her all this time.” She shook her head. “Goddammit. I have got to have better information. This is the worst group of Seers I’ve ever had.” She muttered a long string of obscenities then drew in a deep breath.

She nodded slowly, her gaze slicing back to him. “You got pretty chummy with this non-ascending ascendiate, didn’t you? She pretty?”

Beautiful. Gorgeous. Tall, so she’d fit me like a glove. I wanted my arms around her, my fangs at her neck, and a helluva lot more. “Very pretty,” he said in as flat a voice as he could manage.

“Cut the crap, Kerrick. Do you think I can’t read your mind? So you have a thing for her.”

What was the use pretending? There was a good chance Endelle knew his thoughts even before he had them. “More than I should. Unreasonably.”

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