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“Holy cactus shit. Wow. Okay, let me check things out.” Fiona heard some tapping on the computer. “Yeah, it looks like Horace is still over at the Cave taking care of Zach. A skin-burn I think. I’ll see that he makes a final house call before heading home.”
“Thanks. You’re the best.”
She put her phone away.
The men were breathing hard and the punches had slowed. Wouldn’t be long now. Fiona rubbed her temple, but her head hurt and her ears rang.
Thorne now faced Fiona. She winced and rubbed her ear, and still came up with a whole lot of blood.
Thorne must have seen her because he cried out. “Aw, shit, Fiona, did I do that?”
“Yep.”
Unfortunately, his remorse caused him to let his guard down. She watched Jean-Pierre wind up and was just shouting at him not to do it when he let his fist fly. Thorne flew backward about nine feet, almost hitting the couch by the east window. His eyelids fluttered.
He was on his back and he wasn’t moving.
“And he’s out!” Endelle shouted. She jumped off the desk and held up Jean-Pierre’s arm. “The winner.”
Jean-Pierre, however, shook her off and returned to kneel beside Fiona. Fiona looked around his shoulder and caught Endelle’s eye. “Horace is on his way.”
“Good call, I guess. Fuck, are your ears bleeding again? What is with you?” She rolled her eyes and returned to jump up and sit on her desk.
When Thorne finally gained consciousness and sat up, Endelle said, “I’m leaving her at the Superstitions … for now. We’ll see if Stannett behaves himself. If not, I’ll give you permission to take a tank into that goddam place.”
“Well, that’s something, I guess.”
He put his head in his hands and groaned.
Fiona looked at Jean-Pierre and met his gaze. Both eyes were bruised and swollen, his lips bleeding. “Do you think you could cool the caveman shit for at least one minute? You know my ears are unusually vulnerable.”
“I am sorry, chérie,” he mumbled, squeezing the words out since his lower lip was about twice its normal size. “But I cannot bear to see you hurt.”
At that she smiled. “If you’re going to be my guardian, you might want to get used to that.”
Endelle busted up laughing. “Ain’t it the f**king truth.”
Half an hour later, when Horace had Fiona healed and had begun working on both of Jean-Pierre’s black eyes, Fiona approached Endelle.
Her Supremeness still sat on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs up and back at the knees, like a schoolgirl. “Well, ascender? How’s the obsidian flame training going? I’d like a full report from your end. Alison was here last night for a few minutes. She said you both made fireworks.”
Fiona nodded. “We did. It’s an interesting skill—not making the fireworks, that was just a controlled hand-blast and a turn of the mind. What was interesting was lining up beside her, feeling the energy move down her arm, then mimicking the same thing.”
“Have you ever done a preternatural voyeur?”
“You mean Parisa’s main gift?”
“Yep. I have it, too. Wanna try?”
“Of course.” Then she realized what she was saying, that she was offering to get close to the scorpion queen. She almost pulled back but she knew what would happen if she withdrew now. Endelle would hang her up by her ankles and shake her silly … for about an hour.
“So how do you do this thing? Do you touch my face or something?”
Fiona shook her head. “No, it’s not physical in that way at all. I mean it’s very physical, but I won’t be touching you. I mean—”
“For f**k’s sake, just do it. You should know by now that I’m more of a take-action-and-ask-questions-later kind of gal.”
No shit.
Fiona nodded. “Right.” She closed her eyes and focused on the most powerful vampire on Second Earth. She took a few deep breaths and tried to believe she wasn’t stepping straight into a hurricane.
With a quick thought derived from her practice with Alison the night before, she placed herself against Endelle mentally, side by side.
Nice, Endelle sent. So how the f**k does this work? What do you need me to do?
Fiona was surprised that Endelle didn’t know, so she sent, Well, why don’t you open your window and we’ll see what happens?
What do you want to see?
There was only one real answer. The grid at Militia HQ.
You’re a dog with a bone.
Fiona smiled. I am.
Fine. Whatever.
But instead of the grid, Endelle zoomed in on the workout room, which had a host of warriors, in sweaty T-shirts and gym shorts, pumping iron, boxing, running on treadmills. But she kept zooming toward the back of the building.
Endelle, no!
Endelle only laughed and kept moving fast, right past the doors that led to the locker room with more naked male bodies than Fiona had ever seen in her life.
No! Stop it!
Straight to the showers!
Oh, God.
Endelle panned all the way left then all the way right. Some of the men faced front, some back; either way the view was extraordinary. The warriors were very fit, muscled, so much like Jean-Pierre in many, many ways.
Fiona tried to close her eyes but couldn’t, since this was Endelle’s window. She didn’t know what she could do in this situation.
Hubba, hubba, Endelle sent. Are you enjoying the show as much as I am? The warrior on the left. Damn, is Jean-Pierre that long in the cock? Although I prefer girth myself … but, still.
That did it.
Fiona pulled away and because it wasn’t exactly an agreed-upon separation, there was a kind of rubbery snap to the process. At least it was painless.
She opened her eyes and shouted, “Why did you do that? Why did you have to do that? That was such an invasion of privacy.”
Endelle just smirked at her. “You could have left sooner.”
“I didn’t know if I could!”
“What is wrong, chérie?”
Fiona turned to Jean-Pierre and her face flamed. There was so much heat that she put her hands to her face. She didn’t wait. She just left Endelle’s office and started running.
She ran past all the executive offices, past the admin pool, and through the sliding glass doors. She turned to the right where there was a long corridor—no windows, just a dark stretch of hallway. At least none of the admins had shown up for work yet.
She leaned her back against the wall, then bent over trying to recover.
