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Stannett’s eyes rolled back and forth beneath his eyelids. He was breathing hard, maybe even pushing into the future streams. He looked to be in pain.
Finally, his eyes popped open, and he stared at Greaves.
Casimir felt uneasy.
Stannett rose to his feet. He seemed calmer now, perhaps even hopeful. “I saw the devotiate, Grace, walking alone in the villa garden, in one of the garden rooms, the one with all the white blossoms. She was weeping.”
“Which day and at what hour?” Greaves asked.
“Tomorrow morning, at the villa, before dawn. And at that hour, this one arrives.” He jerked his thumb in Casimir’s direction.
Caz recoiled. He even took a step backward. He didn’t want Greaves to guess at what this was all about. He worked at calming his heart.
“And what does Casimir do?” Greaves asked.
“He holds her in his arms and comforts her. Then together they vanish.”
Greaves turned to Casimir and smiled. “You must be very good at what you do, since apparently in this vision you have the capacity to slip through Endelle’s mist, which still covers the villa. I am most impressed. It would also seem that our path is clear. You must abduct Thorne’s sister.”
“Yes.” The fewer words he spoke, the better.
“When you have her, you will fold her to me.”
Casimir turned toward Greaves. “I have a request, one that I insist must be fulfilled if you wish me to do as you’ve said.”
Greaves grew very still, but he said, “Go on.”
“I want the woman. I want her to live with me in Paris.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. I’ve developed a need for her.”
Greaves remained still.
Casimir waited as the Commander searched his eyes. His shields were powerful enough to keep Greaves out, so he had that going in his favor.
Finally, Greaves smiled. “I suppose in your perverted world, taking a devotiate would be the ultimate adventure. Well, I see no harm in the plan. You have my … blessing.”
Casimir didn’t smile as he responded, “Thank you. I will do as you have said.”
Greaves turned toward Stannett. “Please return to Mexico City. I would ask only that you work in the future streams to conceal Casimir’s movements. That way, if the enemy should decide to look into our activities, at least we’ll have this layer of concealment. Even if Marguerite is able to achieve pure vision, let’s make her work for it.” He glanced from one to the other. “You may both leave now.”
Casimir didn’t need a second invitation. He lifted his arm and vanished.
A brotherhood forges a powerful foundation,
But a sisterhood pushes, with fervor and necessity, all outmoded boundaries.
—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth
Chapter 19
At five o’clock, Thorne held Marguerite close as he folded them both to Medichi’s villa on the east side of the White Tank Mountains. As he touched down in the large central foyer and he gave Marguerite a one-armed hug, he wanted to feel at ease, but he couldn’t. So much had changed for him, as well as for the woman beside him, that coming back to Second Earth wasn’t going to be easy. Nor was it a plus that this was essentially a social evening with the warriors and with those women bonded to Kerrick, Marcus, Jean-Pierre, and Medichi. Marguerite was all but gritting her teeth.
She wasn’t happy about being here, but her situation was profoundly more complex than his. For one thing, she’d gotten into it with Medichi’s woman a few weeks ago. They’d almost come to blows and would have if Endelle hadn’t intervened, pulled a brief stasis stunt, and caught Parisa up beneath her arm. Parisa loved Medichi with a breh-based passion now and Marguerite’s flirtation with Antony had not been well received. Understatement.
For another thing, socializing gave Marguerite the scratch. He was hoping Alison would show up sooner rather than later to maybe take charge of Marguerite since he had business to take care of with his men in the next hour or so, like essentially how to disrupt a military review spectacle.
He stood near the large central table, the one with the seven-foot-tall floral arrangement and the living magnolia flowers. The estate had a formal garden, a large pool, a guest house, an olive grove and press, as well as a vineyard and winery.
Medichi had bucks. He owned several massive public gardens that apparently brought in sufficient revenue to support several estates this size.
Thorne glanced down at Marguerite. He took her hand and asked, “You ready to do this?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Thorne, you’re here.”
Alison’s voice brought him turning around to face the north wing, which housed a number of communal rooms including the kitchen. She held a tray in her hands that supported several reddish drinks in martini glasses. Cosmos. Inside, he started to relax. Alison would have done this, would have made sure that Marguerite had her favorite drink at hand.
Maybe everything would be okay.
She set the tray down on the central foyer table and took his free hand. “I am so glad you’re back.” In a lower voice, she added, “You gave us a scare.”
“I know. Sorry about that. But I’m here now.”
“Yes, you are.”
She took a glass from the tray and handed it to Marguerite. “I’ve heard you prefer these. I hope I made them right.”
“Thank you.” She took a sip but wrinkled her nose.
“I knew it,” Alison cried. “I got the recipe wrong.”
“Actually, that’s not it.” She put her hand to her stomach. “I just haven’t been myself lately.”
Alison nodded. “Well, that happens when you go through hell.”
Thorne watched Marguerite grin. Alison took the drink back but continued, “So how are you? From everything Thorne has told me, you’re squat in the middle of it right now.”
He felt Marguerite’s hand tense within his.
Marguerite didn’t say anything for a long moment, just seemed to search Alison’s eyes. She finally released a sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to say. I’m just really confused about everything that’s going on. You’ve heard about the hidden colony, right?”
“Shocked. We’re just shocked. Three thousand years. Inconceivable. I think it’s knocked Endelle a little out of stride as well.”
Thorne saw movement in the room opposite and Kerrick appeared, supporting baby Helena over his left shoulder and carrying a diaper bag in his free hand. The baby wore a halter in case she mounted her wings.
