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“Luken!” she screamed.
She rose to her feet and turned in a circle. She recognized the Superstitions, one of the entry points to Mortal Earth, one of the places the Warriors of the Blood battled death vampires.
Her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t understand what was happening. Was she really seeing Luken? His cries ripped through the air.
Once more she screamed. “Luken!” She reached her hands toward him. She tried to move in his direction but couldn’t. The space that enclosed her, while protecting her from the flames, also prevented her from reaching the warrior.
His back arched and suddenly he fell twenty feet to earth. She heard the terrible thud, saw him roll and writhe in the dirt.
She had to do something, but she wasn’t effective in this strange nowhere space. So she closed her eyes, relaxed her body, and swished out of the desert-that-wasn’t-a-desert. She opened her eyes. She now stood beside her bed.
She grabbed her iPhone from her nightstand and with shaking fingers called Central. Jeannie would know what to do. Jeannie had worked at Central Command on Second Earth for decades, as long as Havily had ascended, which meant probably longer. The woman served the Warriors of the Blood, routing calls from their leader, Thorne, keeping all the lines of communication open warrior-to-warrior. If anyone could help in this situation, Jeannie could.
“Central. How can I help?”
“Jeannie,” she cried. “This is Havily. I’ve just had some kind of … vision. I think Luken’s at the Superstitions and he’s been burned. His wings have been burned. There was some kind of fire in the sky. Can you get someone out there? Maybe I’m wrong, but … can you get someone out there?”
“I’ll get Thorne on the com. Stay close.” How calm she sounded—but then Jeannie had no doubt seen and heard it all.
Havily kept her iPhone pressed to her ear. Her chest grew damp and she brushed the annoying sensation away only to realize tears were falling onto her br**sts.
She knew, she knew, Warrior Luken had been hurt, maybe killed. The minutes passed and more tears fell.
At last, Jeannie came back on the line. “Sorry it took so long, Havily. Thorne folded to Luken and it was exactly as you described but he couldn’t get back to me until just now. When he arrived on the scene, a squad of death vampires showed up. He took care of them, of course, but Luken … oh, God … Luken’s in bad shape. Thorne wants to know how you knew.”
Havily shook her head as though Jeannie could see her. “I don’t know. It was some kind of dream or vision or something but I watched him fall from the sky.”
“Thorne will want to patch in, so, hold on a little longer. Okay?”
“Of course.”
Havily choked on a sob. At least Thorne was with him. He was the leader of the warriors. He was also very powerful; if anyone could get Luken through this, it was Thorne.
Jesus … Luken. Havily had a fondness for all of the Warriors of the Blood, but Luken had been her own personal Guardian of Ascension. He’d been assigned to protect her when she entered her rite of ascension all those decades ago. He was good and kind and had a huge heart to match his huge warrior body. Havily knew he had a thing for her, and though she maintained a platonic relationship with him, she was fully aware of Luken’s affection, even his love, for her.
Thorne’s gravel voice hit her ear. “So you had a vision?”
“Yes. Something like that. I’m … I’m not really sure. I think I’d just fallen asleep.”
“Hold on.”
Havily waited a little more, then Jeannie came back on. “Thorne wants you to come to the Superstitions because he knows you mean a lot to Luken, but he said only to come if you think you can handle it. It’s pretty bad out there. Horace is on the way, too, but he said Luken could really use your support. I can do the fold from here. Just let me know if you think you’re up to it.”
“Give me a sec,” she said. She set her phone down. Of course she would go. The Warriors of the Blood battled death vampires every night on behalf of all of Second Society. The least she could do was support one of the brothers when he was down.
She folded her nightgown off and with a second preternatural thought, folded a pair of jeans and a yellow T-shirt on. She didn’t bother with her long, layered red hair as she brought socks and Nikes onto her feet. She grabbed her phone and cried, “Fold me.”
“That’s my girl,” Jeannie said.
The journey between was a short ride, only a second, maybe two, a dark trip through nether-space then a touching-down of feet on solid earth.
When she materialized, she found Thorne kneeling beside Luken. Thorne was all business as he said, “Jeannie’s going to do a cleanup. Close your eyes.”
Havily obeyed, and a blinding flash of light tore over her eyelids. She opened her eyes. The horrible battle debris, all those parts of dead vampires, blood, and feathers, had disappeared, thank you, God. What wasn’t gone, however, was the stench in the air of burned feathers and the harsh chemical smell of the fire.
Thorne bent over Luken’s massive shape and spoke quietly to him, his deep rough voice a profound reassurance in the still night air. Luken lay on his side, shaking, his eyes open but his expression not exactly present. His wings … were gone. His skin was burned badly on his legs, thighs, arms, and back. His long thick warrior hair, hanging from the tight cadroen, lay over his shoulder untouched, which seemed like some kind of miracle.
Havily dropped down beside Thorne and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. She was not going to lose it, not when the mightiest of the warriors lay shaking and burned. He tilted his head and his gaze skated to hers, his eyes rolling. “Havily,” he whispered.
She glanced at Luken’s hand. She checked to make sure the skin wasn’t burned before she drew his fingers into her palm, holding him oh-so-gently. “I’m here. We’ll get you through this, Luken.”
“Good,” he whispered then coughed. “I … I thought I heard you call my name.” He coughed some more.
“I did call your name.”
His eyes closed and his body quieted, his fingers now limp.
Havily gripped his hand hard, but there was no answering response. She glanced at Thorne as tears stung her eyes. “Is he dead?”
Thorne put a hand on Luken’s chest. He folded away the leather weapons harness. “No. His heart beats. But … shit. Of all the warriors, he had the most beautiful wings. They were the color of his eyes.”
