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And there they were: Luken, Gideon with his blond hair now long enough to wear in the cadroen, Endelle towering above the men because of her ridiculous stilettos, and a warrior-sized male he knew had to be the one called, Merl, a Third Earth ascender.
His chest hurt in the strangest way as he stared at all of them. He realized in that moment he hadn’t believed he’d ever make it back alive.
“You broke the trance,” Gideon said, drawing close. He planted a hand on Duncan’s shoulder and squeezed. If he pinched his lips together with emotion, Duncan ignored it. His own throat ached. Gideon had been one of his best friends for a long time.
Duncan also ignored the dizziness that was never far away. “Looks like it.” He nodded several times. He was about ready to fall over, but like any soldier worth his salt he knew how to front.
“And you saved my sister,” Gideon added.
“I think it was the other way around.”
“But you warned her that the wreckers were headed her way. She’d be dead otherwise.”
Duncan shook his head. He’d been through too much and had been under Yolanthe’s control far too long, because he was having trouble focusing. “I mean, that’s right, but I blacked out. So the rest, she did.” He glanced around. “She got us both here.”
Luken came forward and grabbed his hand in one of his beefy paws. “Glad you’re back, Warrior.”
Once Thorne had been given command of Endelle’s army along with orders to build up the numbers, Luken had taken over as leader of the Warriors of the Blood.
Luken turned in the Third Ascender’s direction. “I don’t think you’ve met Merl. He helped Samuel and Vela get you out of that torture cell on Third.”
Duncan jerked his chin. “Thanks.”
He thought Merl looked something like a lounge-lizard since he wore black leathers, a red silk shirt open at the neck, and a thick gold chain. Despite his clothing, he had warrior written all over him as he inclined his head in response.
Merl stuck close to Endelle, though, which made Duncan think he might be banging She Who Would Live. Not that Duncan cared how Endelle got her rocks off or Merl. It was just odd.
He glanced behind them, wondering where Rachel was. He wanted to see her, to see with his own eyes that she was all right.
Endelle planted her hands on her hips, lifting her chin once as she took him in from head to foot. “Well, don’t you look like ten kinds of shit.” Her long black hair moved around slowly. Something was on the scorpion’s mind.
He narrowed his gaze slightly. “And you look like you’re about ready to go on tour with a Mortal Earth heavy metal band or turn tricks. Haven’t figured out which.”
The tension in the room ramped up about twelve degrees. No one talked that way to Her Supremeness.
But Endelle was capricious and instead of flying into a rage, her lips twisted into a crooked smile. “I’d do both if it meant keeping you and that woman of yours safe. So what the fuck is going on with you?”
Now wasn’t that the question of the century. “Hell if I know.”
“That’s not an answer.” The smile left her face and something shifted. The movement of her thick black hair became wild and pronounced. He could almost feel her tension, that something not only had her panties in a wad, but was climbing her butt-crack as well.
She added, “I’ll want a full report.”
“Not here, not yet. And if I don’t have a goddam beer sometime soon, I’ll go apeshit.”
Endelle held out her hand and a dark amber bottle appeared. She handed it to Duncan.
He twisted the cap off, tilted his head back, and drank deep. This had to be what the gods of Olympus drank. It was ice cold and tasted finer than anything he’d had in about a decade.
Everyone remained standing where they were as he drained the bottle. When he’d finished the last drop, he aimed at a nearby trash can and launched. He hit it dead on. Looked like his coordination and balance was improving by the second.
Horace took the opportunity to excuse himself, patting Duncan on the back. He wished him well, but said he was needed in North Africa. Duncan thanked him.
As the healer headed out, Endelle turned to Luken. “I want the Warriors of the Blood at Medichi’s villa in fifteen. And if I hear one fucking word of complaint or one weak excuse, I’ll burn the Blood and Bite down while I stand here glaring at each of you.” For emphasis, she tapped the toe of her right shoe in a quick drumbeat so that all the metal scorpions made an annoying jangling noise. She then amplified the sound for effect.
Duncan and all three men drew in distressed streams of air. The Mortal Earth club was a steam-valve for the Thunder God Warriors as well as the What-Bees. Sex, booze, and heavy-petting on a dance floor went a long way to easing back the battle adrenaline. Action in the red velvet booths helped as well.
Duncan watched Luken whip his thin warrior phone from the pocket of his kilt. Stepping away from the group, he said, “Hey, Jeannie, I want the What-Bees at the villa in ten.” He paused. “No, just those in Arizona Two. Looks like we’ve got some major shit going down.” Another pause, then Luken grinned, showing all his big, fine teeth while his voice was as smooth as honey. “Back atcha. You’re my fav, you know.” He chuckled. “All right, so I said the same thing to Carla. A warrior is allowed two favs. It’s a rule, and a righteous one at that.”
